Depression · Mental Health · Spirituality

Episode | Poems that Suck

Time crawls during an episode,
 the days and nights extending
  before you; a vanishing horizon. 

You begin to take notice of little
 things; the exact rhythm of your heart,
  the way a water droplet holds light.

But mostly I sit in the stillness
 of apathy, stagnate as everything around
  me grows and changes while I molder. 

It's happened enough times for me
 to know that it's all a matter of time
  before it passes. 

So I sit, and smoke, and drink
  black coffee and wait until 
   the light returns. 
Depression · Heartbreak · Love

Call me a Psychic | Poems that Suck

We'll chance upon each other, 
 some day or evening
  a long time from now. 

By then my heart will
 have scabbed over, but
  still the edges are tender. 

You'll be excited - "it's been
 so long!" - but I'll
  be full of dread, caution. 

I'll regard you coolly, just
 enough detachment to make
  you unsure, ill at ease.

I'll make some cutting remark, 
 veiled in subtlety, then
  excuse myself from your company. 

You'll mull the comment over, 
 repeating it in your
  mind, puzzling together its meaning.

And slowly, you'll reach the
 soul of it and
  know that I'm still bleeding. 

You'll watch me from across
 the room, and I'll 
  know by its focused heat,

But I'm too old and 
 too tired to play
  the games of young girls. 

You won't see me feigning
 laughter or pretending to 
  flirt with some random person.

I'll simply be me, as
  even keeled and placid
   as you knew I was. 

It will remind you of
 those quiet moments we
  shared, tangled in each other,

Doing nothing but marveling at
 the miracle of love,
  the wonder of eachother's breathing.

You'll then be in touch,
 and I'll hesitate but
  answer; no sense of preservation. 

You'll apologize for it all
 and I'll give you
  a halfhearted, watery kinda smile.

(Actions, of course, speak louder
 than words and I'm
  simply mirroring your past indifference.)

You'll realize too late, like
 they all do, that
  you made a huge mistake. 

But it'll make no difference
 to me because you
  had broken something inside me 

That day, way back, when
 I stared out of the
  window, watching a squirrel as 

You stood above me and
 recited a litany of
  why you didn't want me.

And maybe then you'll long
 for me the way
  I did those many months,

The wind blowing through the
 hollow in your chest,
  whistling past the ragged edges.

And then you'll understand, it
 dissolved that warm October
  as I sat in silence. 

You'll know it's too late
 for me, 
  for you, 
   for us. 

It's just now that you're catching up.


 
Depression · Free Verse · Mental Health

Brittle | Poems that Suck

You were frail in body while I
 was delicate in mind, yet we curled
  around and underneath each other trying
   to provide comfort to one another - because
                                       that's
                                       what
                                       empaths
                                       do.

You held me as I fell to pieces
 in your hands, mind ridden and soul
  overflowing with trauma, pain and anxiety.
   You held on until I stopped crumbling - not
                                           healed,
                                           but
                                           stable, 
                                           enough.

Then I held you, in your emaciated
 brittleness, all edges and angles, as
  you allowed yourself the space to dissolve
   in my hands, slipping through my fingers - like
                                              water
                                              down
                                              a
                                              drain.

Somehow we held each other up, 
 held each other together, just barely. 
  Maybe that's what two people do for
   one another; the simple kindness of - offering
                                         safety,
                                         compassion, 
                                           and
                                         companionship
                                               as we try to
                                                  weather our way
                                                     through the shitstorm.
                                           
                                       
Depression · Free Verse · Mental Health

Judas | Poems that Suck

I'm tired --
tired of being tired,
of feeling like my body
is held down by anchors sunk
to unfathomable depths, leaving me
struggling for air, for energy.

I'm tired --
of waking up to feel
like going back to sleep,
where my body is whole and 
full of life.

I'm tired --
of running interference
with exhaustion, and mitigating
it with so much coffee that my 
piss stinks of it.

I'm fucking tired --
the spirit is willing, is 
full of fire and passion, 
but this Judas of a body is weak.