You Will No Longer Control Me

Annoyed, Pissed Off, and Frustrated beyond belief,
But that is not what I allow you to see,
Wake up Angry and Disappointed, Something is missing,
But that is not what I will allow you to believe,
Choking on air thick with mucus, the yellowing of my cuticles, shortening my youth,
Deteriorating health with bad habits I never thought would catch up, refusing to lend myself any form of love, this is how I expect to rise above,
With Anger, Annoyance, and Remiss,
How I expect to continue living, with the aid of excessive alcohol and weed, blurring the vision I never wanted to see,
Hating me, Hating, Hating everything,
Someone please kill me.
Kill this version of defeat, release me from my own disappointment, allow me to bleed freely,
I am already doing all I can to die, I have tried many times, and yet the self-inflicted torture continues to grow inside,
Disappointed in my lack of follow through, wishing the depression would ensue, angry with all of you,
Those who don’t understand anxiety, who can’t fathom what it feels like to want to die, those who think depression passes with time,
Alienated, Aggravated, Doubting that I will ever make it,
Enraged, Defeated, Attempting to keep this secret,
Wishing, Hoping, and Disappointing,
The same cycle plagues me, the same thoughts torture me, the same place I never wanted to be,
Fuck this Anxiety, Fuck this Depression, Fuck always having to begin again,
I no longer want to be open to these emotions, I no longer want to be tortured by my hopeless devotion, I no longer want to sip on this toxic potion,
I am done, I want to move on, I want nothing more than to be numb,
Shut up Doubt, Disappointment close your mouth, Depression you can go fuck yourself,
I am tired of this, I am moving on from anger, I will no longer accept this deranged behavior.

Today’s Specials

I’ll take the anxiety-depression combo,
Super-size that to go.
No I don’t want fries with that,
I will accompany it with my own bad habits.
It pairs nicely with a lack of clothing,
And can be seasoned with a some negative groaning.
The flavors are highlighted by exasperation,
I can even taste the resentment marinating.
There is just a hint of desperation,
But the taste of bitterness is overwhelming.
Balanced out with some lies over ice,
I eagerly slurp up denial through a straw.
I feel the post-meal lethargy settle in,
But still I suck down even more anxiety.
I stuff my face with an escape,
I slowly put on depression’s weight.
The salty taste still lingers in the back of my mouth,
Distracting me from my own self-doubt,
Making me crave something else.
Maybe a quick apple pie with a gooey denial inside,
Or a warm chocolate chip cookie with a hint of apathy,
They both pair with the anxiety nicely.
Wash it down with a cold glass of hate,
A refreshing yet shocking taste.
This feast requires a post-meal smoke,
Only the finest intoxicants that my body can host.
It will have to be a Number Seven,
Allow the coughing to do the settling.
Let the meal sink in,
Momentarily distracted from my malnutrition.
None of the important food groups represented,
Growing fat on guilt and regression,
Losing weight from hope and distractions.
Tuck in.
This feast is for one alone,
It will continue to make my mental illness grow,
The weight of depression gradually gained,
Seasoned by an anxiety I cannot name.

A Case Against Myself

The evidence is right before you.
It is in the ashtrays scattered and filled to the brim,
It is the clothes spread across your bedroom,
It is in the way that you have forgotten to call anyone who means anything to you.

The outcome is clear.
It is in the cough that fills the bathroom,
It is in the isolation that you have grown used to,
It is interactions that are new to you.

The result is frustration.
It is in the way that you say things,
It is in the negative tone you are wishing would lessen,
It is the true tell signs of depression,
It is the way that you are sleeping for days,
It is in the way that you get lost in the words you have to say,
It is in the way that you get so easily distracted in one place.

The truth is laid before you.
It is the way you choose to pass the time,
It is the way that you criticize your ever searching mind,
It is in the ways in which to yourself you are unkind.

The solution will take time.
It is whispering in the back of your mind,
It is aching to be heard,
It is the voice you have previously ignored,
It is the patience that you reserve for all others besides yourself,
It is the secret to good health,
It is what you wished you would have always felt.

The change is within your grasp.
It is your choice how you react,
It is your voice that you have to impact,
It is your mind that you have to entrap,
It is your mistakes you have to look past.

The choice is yours.
It is depression or resilience,
It is anxiety or boldness,
It is in how you choose to control this,
It is reminiscing upon the past and looking to the future,
It is accepting experience and moving forward,
It is feeling lost and looking closer,
It is accepting that you are not broken.

I’m Depressing

Leave me alone.
I want to be this depressed.
I want to wallow and trudge and bitch through it all.
I want an excuse to bawl or an excuse to brawl.
I am tired of fighting it all alone.
So I went and reached out to you.
But what did you do?
You left me on my own yet again.
Questioning if I ever really could count you as a friend.
But it is all my fault in the end.
Because of depression.
I am the one at fault.
You are the one that taught me to see.
I am the one who is incapable and bleeding.
This you finally shared with me.
I am more of a mess that you hoped me to be.
I cry for no reason.
I bitch without believing.
I am constantly complaining.
What more do you want from me?
When you have labeled me as a depressed being.
I sink lower into the hole of my own creating.
I am tired of debating positivity.
I want you to see me.
I want you to see that I am depressed.
I want to be negative and live in unrest.
I want this to be me.
I do not have the answers you are seeking.
I am sinking.
I am losing track.
I no longer know what day it is.
I can no longer resist.
I find comfort in knowing that I am broken.
I have an excuse continuing.
I am just plain depressing.
I chain smoke.
I drink.
I refuse to speak.
I travel even further into my own head.
I want to be dead.
I consider ways to resolve this.
I dream of car crashes and cutting and shotguns.
I know I am numb.
I seek help from no one.
I want this to remain secret.
I am ashamed of what I am up against.
I am done with expression.
I am tired of depression.

I’m Fucking This Up

Lazy Piece Of Shit.
Unmotivated Sack Of Bones.
Worthless Whiney Bitch.
You wanted this.
This is the change that you manifested.
This is when you should be at your best.
But you had to go and get high instead.
Fucking Addict.
Habitual Fuck Up.
Undeserving Of Love.

You know this.
You see the evidence.
This is what you’re up against.
Embrace It.
Bold And Brave.
Willing To Take No Shit.
Never Complacent.
This is what you were born this.
Never Satisfied.
Always Striving.
Constantly Searching.
This is how you’ve made it.
Hard Working Survivor.
Constantly Flexible.
Destined For So Much More.
This is what you choose to believe in.
Don’t Lose Hope.
Look For The Silver Lining.
Learn How To Cope.
This is how you continue on.


I lost track of what I wanted to say…
I am distracted by another point never completed…
My mind has no ambition these days…
It wanders and leads me to thoughts that are incomplete…
It deceives both you and me…
It thinks of these rhymes while I attempt to find something to actually care about this time…
I am tired of the complaints of which it speaks…
I wish that it would just move on from me…
I am the only one dragging myself down…
I am the only one who sees my own crippling doubt…
I am the only one who is privy to the secret that I have kept so desperately…
I will deliver my own self-defeat. This is all within my own control. This choice is up to me. This is my own self-deprecating form of deceit.
I am the person who is responsible for this, and yet I am the last one who will admit that this is something I struggle with.
It was once nameless.
It was once something that I was just born with.
It was once something that was supposed to mean so much more to me.
I was once a human being…
Until Depression overtook me.
Now I am just a mind that holds an infection.
Now I am waiting for someone else’s dictation to sever the bonds that I have been building with the monster that lives inside of me and takes every ounce of hopeful air I breathe.
It has overtaken me.
I am no longer distracted,
I am exhausted…
I am no longer exhausted,
I am indifferent…
I am no longer indifferent,
I am losing. I am losing this battle against a hopeful version of me. I am losing track of what I once meant. I am losing the sense to repent against these unjust thoughts and transgressions against me.
I was once so “carefree”.
I was once spoke with “honesty”.
I once “believed” that this “depression” is not a part of “me”.

I Want This Piece of Me to Be Missing

I am too tired.
I am too tired to do all of this.
I am too tired to carry on.
I can’t.
I can’t seem to stop for even a moment before I have to move on.
I can’t seem to stop over thinking everything.
I won’t move on.
I won’t do what I know is better for me.
I won’t go on to living the dreams that I had.
I don’t have enough.
I don’t have the talent or the teachings.
I don’t have the raw elements of success.
I shouldn’t be this way.
I shouldn’t wake up and already feel the pressure crushing in.
I shouldn’t indulge in these vices that are killing me.
I have no strength.
I have no plan to resolve what is frustrating me.
I have no desire to move on from where I wallow.
I am depressed.
I am not me.
I am not the person I could prove to be.
I am in a shell of existence.
I could care less.
I could fully commit to losing everything.
I could submit to my final defeat.
I could end this reality.
I could save myself.
I am indifferent to hope and positivity.
I am content with my negativity.
I am blind to all possibility.
I want to sink even lower.
I want to explore this depression and see what it is worth.
I want to satisfy my sick desire to have no hope.
I want to get better.
I try to heal.
I try to not listen to myself.
I try to convince myself to move.
I try.
I fail.
I sink even lower into this despair.
I fall fast.
I lose my breath.
I completely forget who I am.
I forget to eat.
I have trouble sleeping.
I doubt everything.
I focus only on the negative.
I clench my jaw.
I speak words that I regret.
I hide in my own head.
I am me.
I struggle with depression.
And I know this will never end.

Seeing Life Through Black Colored Glasses

I’ve had to relearn how to live,
That’s what I was given with the gift of depression.
I had to recognize that I am not whole,
And I had to learn from what I’ve been through before.
I learned that I have faults and weaknesses,
And that I seem to struggle with the simple things.
That getting out of bed is a battle instead,
Of being the opportunity I wished I saw.
That the ability to speak is something I once did not reach,
When I was too busy grinding my teeth.
That social interactions are a cause for reaction,
In the form of sweat and anxiety and a wish to retreat.
That eating was an evil necessity,
And I wished that it was not needed regularly.
That hope is something I crave,
But also something I haven’t seen in many days.
I had to relearn how to be awake,
And that there are mistakes I might make.
I had to teach myself how to speak,
Despite the constant worry that I keep,
Telling me that I should first think,
Through every possibility and all that I could be,
Before I decide what to see.
I had to grow in ways that I had previously denied,
And I had to prove to myself that I am willing to try,
To save this mind from the infecting thoughts that are unkind.
I had to learn to be positive,
Since it was not my first reflexive,
Reaction to the trials I endure,
And the person I ensure,
Myself to be,
In this fucked up version of reality.

I Needed You To See Me

Thank you for listening,
But you seemed to be missing the point,
Where I no longer wanted to speak of my troubles,
And right now I do not want to seek a rebuttal.
I have always struggled with this,
And this is not the first time I have caved to blackness.
I have always been depressed,
But now you will not allow that piece of me to rest.
You want to discuss the feelings that I cannot trust,
And you want to heal the wounds I so honestly display,
But that is not the reaction I was seeking when I said,
That I have been spending too much time inside my own head.
And I have been struggling with feelings I want to put to rest.
But this struggle has always existed,
I just have always resisted the pressure to speak of what troubles me,
And the reasons for which I no longer want to breathe.
I have always been silent and when it comes to my belief,
In the thoughts that will not allow me to sleep.
This is something I have always gone through,
And something that you are beginning to view,
As a piece of me and a part of the person you see me to be.
Depression has always resided in my mind,
And this is just another time when I struggle to stay alive.
But you are starting to see this side of me,
And I apologize for shaking your belief,
That I am a strong and happy and filled with life,
And someone who can prove to survive.
I am sorry that I have shared the truth,
That that is not just a trait of my youth,
But something that I continue to struggle through.
I am sorry that I am not the best friend you thought you had,
And that I prove to be more than just occasionally sad.
But I know that this is of no consequence to you,
Since this is something you have also been through.
I know that you will stand by my side,
No matter what battle I might have waging on the inside,
Since you have shown your loyalty through all of this,
And you still want to understand what it is,
That upsets the person I strive to be,
And you want to be the person who can change my belief.
You want to see me heal,
And you are my reminder every year,
That I have grown in ways I did not expect,
And I have gone further than I planned to transgress.
You are my biggest support,
And my favorite cohort,
In the mischief this life presents,
And the actions of which I do not repent.
You are my best friend,
And I should listen to you in the end,
Since all you want for me is to see,
The person that you love me to be.

I Could Hate Myself

I could blame this all on my mother –
My complete inability to be satisfied,
And my wish to be another,
Kind of person who holds pride inside,
For the person I can prove to be,
And the beliefs that I hold close to me.
I could wish that I were dead,
Due to the thoughts I cannot silence,
And the feeling of impending dread,
But that would be pious,
Manifesting my negative words instead.
I could be disappointed with myself,
And never applaud the things I do,
So that these negative feelings can be felt,
And I have nothing left to pursue,
Since I lack a belief in the strength I keep.
I could cry and yell and fall down again,
Leaving me a mess of unrecognizable emotion,
Feeling like my life is caving in,
And unsure how to begin again.
I could hate myself and all that I do,
Leaving everything to be disappointing,
And nothing to be true,
To the person I am avoiding,
And the actions I cannot undo.
I could despise the person I have become,
Leaving me with a world of hate,
And desperate attempts at feeling numb.
I could never let let this go,
And always allow disappointment to show.
I could make this true.
But in truth,
That is what I already do.