• “A letter to my parents about my depression.” I wrote this last year when I was known as poeticprincessss, this is a #repost but I felt it was important to dwell on this piece as a LOT has changed in my life since I wrote this. I’m now working, studying, I have my license, in a healthy and growing relationship, currently living in my own house and focusing on even bigger things ahead of me. Time and pain heal your wounds and so much can change in so little time. Hold on. You’ll see. Keep fighting, keep shining and keep on keepin on! It gets better, I promise. •
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The silence so intrusive, pure rupture of the soul,
To resonate the marrow, the core of every bone...
A crystal skull seductive, questioning “to be,”
And conjugate each verb persistent in the “we”...
Books on top of books with characters and lives,
All meant to teach the readers the structures of the hives...
The history repeating, blindfolded with no jest,
Until the lessons learned from lifetimes that have passed...
Profane and ecumenic, this temple body flesh,
The star upon the forehead, the moon tilting the trash...
The mole behind the nose, digging a tunnel deep,
To reach the brain waves rippling, from third eye to the hip...
Saluting monstrousness and tempering divine,
Embodying at once within this space and time...
And building constellations within each cell alive,
The empty filled up vastness of body, soul and mind...
Penetrating blue ethers...
• Don’t let anyone tell you that you need to be harder, or tougher, or less affected by the world. I grew up being called pathetic like it was my name, but I’m not. Yes, I’m soft. I’m gentle. I care so fucking much. But I think that’s what makes me strong. And through all of that, it didn’t make me harder. It just made me quieter.
(But this is where we find a voice)
(This is where we are not ashamed)
Repost from @chloefrayne @TopRankRepost #TopRankRepost
(What is depression?: A Poem)
Depression is a hole. A dark deep hole. A hole with no end in sight. A hole with a single lit candle for light. A hole filled with fear, anxiety, voices from little creatures in your head making it seem like no one is there for you. Making it seem like no one understands or will even care. And that single candle burns slowly, slowly, through the darkness. That horrible darkness of the world. But that candle, no matter how much you want to put it out, you can’t. It’s forever there weighing over you. Not letting you escape. For you are afraid to escape. But your mind tells you you want to escape, when you know damn well that you can’t. Though you try and fail countless times, you still manage to move your scarred heavy body through the dark. You crave to leave and you crave to live, but the dark is so strongly rapped around you. So tightly rapped. But you know that you can’t leave, no it’s not that you can’t, it’s that you won’t. You’re afraid to leave but you’re afraid to live. Which one? If you leave the dark would no longer be strangling you, but if you live......if you live......the fight would go on. The endless fights. The fights that prove you are alive. That you are human. So you decide to stay. Stay for your family. Stay for your friends. Stay for your life. So for now you fight the darkness and let that small candle burn.
Something about me says “come and spill the beans to me....tell me all your problems...” I’m not sure why...it’s quite uncomfortable at times. I just sit back and listen and pray for it to be over hahaha.
Do your fucking job
Do I have a sign that reads
Vent and cry to me?