scdsn
suicide season
br, 20. *TRIGGER WARNING*
one step closer to the edge means one less demon lives inside my head.
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“You think you are ok until you’re up at 3am crying about everything and nothing all at once”
— I think I need someone
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It hurts that I can’t be what I want or what I need, because I’m not enough, I’ll never be close to enough and I’m just so damn tired
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the worst part of depression is this complete lack of passion and motivation for anything. how am i supposed to get myself out of this hell hole if i don’t care about anything!!!!!!! not even myself
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sometimes i wake up
but my lines don’t,
at least not the ones
that i drew on my own.
they remain laid still,
except they’re constantly moving;
profoundly asleep
meanwhile vividly haunting.
sometimes i wake up
not entirely myself,
sometimes i get up
only fifty percent.
forty
thirty
twenty, perhaps
in the end it depends
on how much i pretend.
sometimes i wake up
but my veins don’t.
so they make me wonder
is there any blood running under?
or did i manage to bleed myself dry
the last time i tried?
sometimes i wake up,
but i can’t move completely
and that’s when i question
will i always be restricted
by my mental ilness?
will this plurality of destructive actions
always be my beacon?
sometimes i wake up,
but my wrist doesn’t.
i look down and i see it
and it means nothing,
then i look up and i see me
and i mean nothing.
it doesn’t lift,
it doesn’t push,
it doesn’t carry,
and now i can feel it.
it then becomes clear
and i’m forced to once again see it.
sometimes my body wakes up
but my soul doesn’t.
my bones still hold me,
but only for a moment.
soon enough,
i will be no more than just this poem.
- (f).
#my words#poem#poetry#text#poets of tumblr#writing#writer#writers of tumblr#words#thoughts#depression#self harm#suicide#blood#cuts#self hate#sadness#darkness#spilled ink#spilled words#spilled poetry#spilled thoughts#suicidal thoughts#poets on tumblr
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