#poems about depression

[waitingforthesunrise]

Love Poem

I wished for a love made of knives — 

Sharp, and deadly. blood feels like pain, which sometimes feels like love, and always like attention.

To say I wish to kill you, but to kiss you first. 

But in the saddest moments, what did I wish? 

To set foot on a doorstep 

And sigh. overwhelmed with the knowledge. 

I have made it, I have traveled to the arms 

Which catch me as I fall 

and brush the rain from my face. 

I lean my forehead against the window, too heavy to cry.      

Someone kisses my shoulder and says, it is not work to care for you. And here are my hands to hold yours. And here is everything else. 

Tell me: does love always carry fear? Can they be divorced? 

If I let you care for me, perhaps I will forget how to do it myself. Perhaps I will have to admit I don’t really know how.

If you leave me, I will sit down and lean my head against a boulder. The moss will hold my fingertips and

they won’t be able to hurt me anymore. 

Flowers will kiss my hair, and after a century I might awake wiser and better and — 

Love, you whisper. It is midnight. And you are tired and very wise (which is why you are unhappy) and perhaps I should tell you that to love is to be vulnerable, which is never truly separate from fear. I can not promise never to hurt you.

But we are strong travelers, still walking side by side.

Fear tastes sweet in the hands of the gentle.  And when the air is like concrete and the walls freeze my bones and panic steals my tongue away from me — 

You will say my name, Ari, but I hear 

Love is a rescue. 

Ari, can you hear me? 

Love is a knife in a sheath. Love is a soul in search of another.

Ari, I’m right here. 

Love is a safety net with holes, a knowledge, an escape, a return. 

Ari, breathe with me. We will be okay.

Love is an attempt 

To look at another, and say —

You are beautiful, and frightening. Lovely, complex, and worthy, worthy, worthy

Like dust motes and constellations. There is no such thing as ordinary when I am with you. 

Ari? 

My hands tighten around yours, but you don’t let go. We will get up, later. Tomorrow, maybe, it will be my turn 

To smooth your hair and say 

Worthy. Wanted. Enough. 

We do not beg each other for love. We do not need to,

But the world is lighter with you.  At least, you’ve taught me how to hold my hands open, and that never leaves.

Love, in its purest form, is a reminder of the truth. 

@dailypoetryforyou

#poetry #original poetry #poets on tumblr #poetsandwriters #love poetry #love poem #poems about depression #poems about mental health #poems about trauma #poems about love #poems and poetry

[crueldesire]

lisa villemaire, from ‘some things I don’t know how to talk about’

#poetry #my poetry #poetry excerpt #poems about depression #writing

[maryhall]

candlelight flickers in the dark

and i do not know who i am

the space between the bed and the wall

stretches as an abyss or watery grave

that laps at the legs of my bed

its dark consumes discarded blankets

drags them down like my own self

but still i wonder who i am

my true self lays at the very bottom

of the ocean with the whale fall

where marine snow falls lightly

onto the heads of little crabs

and larger ones eat them

until my body is nothing but bones

let me remain in this bed

#poetry #quotes #words #my poem #original poem #original poetry #poems and quotes #poem #literature #ocean #sea #deep sea #crabs #whale fall #marine biology #sea life #marine life #poems about the sea #poems about marine life #poems about depression #mental health

[mermaidmarsbars]

Defining The Word Sometimes

A Poem By Mars

Sometimes depression is drinking Monster Energy Pipeline Punch in the handicapped single stall bathroom of your dorm building at 3:27 AM because you’re scared to disturb your roommate but you’re too sad to do anything but drown your sorrows in caffeinated bullshit.

Sometimes anxiety is looping the same song over and over so you don’t have to worry about triggering yourself, you’ll just always be triggered. Always.

Sometimes borderline personality disorder is listening to your favorite person spill his guts and not minding the fact that the more of his guts he spills, the more of your own he is ripping out. Every word might as well be a knife, but then again, it would hurt just as bad if he was silent.

Sometimes being tired is staring at the ceiling begging your body to sleep, and simply being met with an exhausted state of being where sleep eludes you like a phantom.

Sometimes an eating disorder is a conversation starter.

Sometimes suicidal ideation is a joke.

Sometimes death is more of an old friend than an enemy.

Sometimes the world is cruel, rather than warm and welcoming.

Sometimes being alive is dying, slowly but surely.

Sometimes.

Sometimes the word sometimes does not mean sometimes, it means most of the time, sometimes it means all the time. Sometimes the word sometimes means that I am crying on the bathroom floor with no energy left.

Sometimes.

#kinda depressing #poetry #writers on tumblr #writer things #original poem #my poems #poems about depression #light angst #mental health #bpd vent #disordered eating mention #anxi4ty #writing prompts #creative writing #aroace

[psyche-tips-the-candle]

Some days I feel entriely alone

The sort of cold no one else can feel

Sinking down, below skin, below bone

Pulsing in an echo of otherness

The rhythm lurks just under my skin;

The hollow makes its home in my heart

Till I'm outside begging to be let in

Apsrt from myself and everything

This emptiness become a quiet hum

And I sit here feeling guilty, feeling numb

#psyche tips the candle #my poetry #my writing #spilled ink #poets on tumblr #my poem #my poems #original poem #original writing #original poetry #poems about depression #poems about loneliness #poems about loss #poems about trauma #sonnet #verse poem #verse poetry #the rhythm is weird but its semi deliberate #it started off iambic and it keeps to the rhyme scheme but it doesnt want to work #it sounds wrong otherwise

[seraphim88]

Somewhere Without the Push by Gianna (me)

#poetry #poems of tumblr #poems #original poetry #my poem #writing #sad poems #sad poetry #eternal rest #sylvia plath #depressing poem #poems about depression #tumblr poems #religious poem #religious poetry #poems about death #death poems #poetry aesthetic #poems on tumblr #poems and poetry #poems of the heart #poemsoftheday #female writers #writerscommunity #rain #heaven #discomfort #comfortable #let me rest #rest and relaxation

[theanarchictastes]

Depression is a place

Somewhere to go when the world shuts its door on you

Trampled, beaten, and bruised

Like Old Yeller being taken to the back of the barn

A shotgun blast to the face

Remember when you were young and had nothing but time?

It all melds together now

There’s no rhyme or reason for it

Haunted by all my dreams that never came to fruition

No empathy left

Along with a lack of ambition

And so you’ve listened to me droning on as if I had something important to say

But I’m stuck in this place

God, if I could just get away…

#poetry #my poem #poetry on tumblr #poets on tumblr #poems on tumblr #original poem #poems about depression #depressing shit #tw depression

[jasminesilversworld]

Pain is inevitable and misery is just despair

And just have a understanding of what the other person is thinking and what is going on through my Brain and it’s hard to go live life as though nothing is going wrong

#poems about depression

[enrichedenclosure]

Can I Call You Back?

I’m in class at the moment, Is between 4 and 4:30, An okay time to call you back? I’ll be getting home about then.

I’m at work at the moment, Is tomorrow or maybe Thursday, An okay time to call you back? I won’t get off until late.

I’m in bed at the moment, Is next week, in a fortnight, in a month, An okay time to call you back? I’m exhausted all the time.

#poetry #poem #poems and poetry #original poem #poets on tumblr #poemsbyme #trans poets on tumblr #depresson #poems about depression

[mmmmorph]

When I see you, I feel nothing

Just a face in the mirror attached to a skull to a neck to a body

Nothing

There is nothing there

Eyes blank and unfeeling

Mouth closed and jaw slack

If I smash my face in the mirror,

Will I feel something

Anything at all?

-mmorph

#poems and poetry #poems on tumblr #poets #poetry #short poems #writers and poets #poets on tumblr #oc poetry #poetblr #poets corner #poetsandwriters #oc poem #poetscommunity #oc #poetry corner #spilled ink #spilled truth #original poem #poems about feelings #poems about depression

[girlwtdragontattoo]

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[waitingforthesunrise]

Why do you speak of death with such romance?

Oh, he always speaks to me like a lover 

Longing for me to come to home. 

Kisses my neck and I am helpless 

Stunned by the caring of one so loving and dark. 

I fight the fear with flowers

And see his face in every pool I pass. 

I cried when someone told me —

Love does not taste like a knife. 

#original poetry #poetsandwriters #poets on tumblr #poetry #beautiful words #poems and poetry #poets corner #spilled ink #writers and poets #poetic #poems and quotes #poem #poetscommunity #poems about depression #Tw death #tw suicide

[alyssacarry]

the nothingness that has become my life *alyssacarry

#alyssacarry poem #personal #mine #me #art #poetry #my poetry #writing #sadness #pain #emptiness #empty thoughts #writing about life #writing about pain #poems about sadness #poems about depression #short poems #sad poems #my poem #sad poem #alyssa carry poetry #my poetry book #nothingness

[local-ink-lover]

tws: metaphorical abuse, self-harm, blood

a poem about finally learning to heal instead of drifting along, hoping for a light to find you.

they say that

time heals all wounds

and it might

leave them alone

long enough to

close up and scar

but more likely

it will hold you

in its loving hands

like razorblade

to a wrist

it will make you bleed

stitch you up and

rip you open again,

it will gorge into you

until you are

unrecognizable and

maybe it is

carving you into

a masterpiece,

wisening you

beyond your years

but maybe,

probably,

it is chipping away at you

until there is nothing left

because time

is like your abusive ex.

time is not sympathetic

or intelligent

it does not want

the best for you

time will chop you into pieces,

take whatever it wants

from you and

scatter whatever

tiny fragments are left.

you will give it a

bouquet of roses

grown from your own

bleeding body and

it will give it right back

then call you

ungrateful

for breaking it

while it takes a

knife to the petals

right in front of you

and you will believe it.

Time will take

and take

and take

and leave you with

nothing of yourself left

you can wait

until its dying breath

for it to give you back

and it will still

hold your dead heart

as it falls

you will chip away

at your own body

and beg for it to

take the remains

because you do not

want you anymore

and it will look away

and call it mercy.

my friend,

time cannot heal you

because time

cannot control you.

you are letting it do

whatever it wants

because you are

still holding on

to the only hope you

allow yourself

you deserve

to have hope in yourself

if you want to stop

bleeding out

you need to

get up

and go to the

hospital.

put a bandaid on

at least

my friend,

you must

fill time

with your own

medicine

plug its throat

and stop it from

spouting its lies

drown it

in your best shot

at healing

and slow

its bloodthirsty hands

#my poetry #poetry #poetry about mental health #poet #depression #writeblr #mentally ill #poems #poems about depression #healing #mental health #self love #self care #tw abuse #tw self harm #tw blood

[mermaidmarsbars]

Ultra Watermelon Twist & Other Stories

a poem by Mars

In my childhood I chewed Trident gum

“Watermelon Twist”

because I never really liked the mint.

I often swallowed it

my mother worried

I would get an intestinal blockage.

Ironically I didn’t get one

until my first year of college,

after not chewing gum for a year.

By the time I reached 8th grade

my mother was more worried

about the extra inch

around my waist

than she had ever been

about my death.

This only changed

after the night where I tried

to run away from home.

For the next two years

I wasn’t allowed

to be left home alone.

It didn’t stop me

from trying to leave.

I was dragged

back into the house

by my hair.

In my junior year,

I cut it all off

The ziploc bag

with my green ponytail in it,

sat in my room

for the following school year.

I can’t remember now, if it is still there.

Now in my freshman year of college,

I sit in my Monday class,

sipping an Ultra Watermelon,

zero sugar, ten calorie

can of Monster Energy.

It tastes like the gum

I used to chew in my childhood,

a liquified memory.

I cannot decide if I like it,

or if it burns down my throat.

I struggle to eat at meals,

but steal snacks off of my roommate,

hoping he won’t question it.

He doesn’t.

He hasn’t been interested in me,

not unless I am agreeing

with his never ending complaints

about everything to ever exist.

My friends laugh when I stim.

My kindest friend threatens me,

and out of his mouth,

it is the funniest joke

I have ever heard.

I rest my hand on his forearm.

It’s warm.

He doesn’t question my strange behavior,

doesn’t question how often

my hands ghost over his skin,

despite my hatred for physical contact.

And I do hate it.

Being touched, that is.

It makes the ants

that are near-constantly crawling

under my skin

multiply tenfold.

But sometimes

the things we hate the most,

are the ones we need.

And the ones we love,

are the ones

who make us hate ourselves.

#poetry #trauma #childhood #childhood trauma #poems and quotes #poemsbyme #poems about depression #family drama #family trauma #did system #did alter #did art

[psyche-tips-the-candle]

The past six months

Something like a scream has sat

Trapped in my throat

The tail end snakes out

Is bitten off

Bleeds out with every breath

#psyche tips the candle #spilled ink #my writing #poets on tumblr #my poetry #my poem #my poems #original poem #original writing #poem #poetry #poems about loss #poems about depression #poems about grief #poems about pain #whats the vibe this morning lads? #fear and dread? #fear and dread.