When I write a poem or anything like that I just write it, and then I read it over again and think: wow that was really fucking dramatic. What is wrong with me? I need to stop being so fucking dramatic.

I can't even validate my own feelings and that is fucking sad. I feel sorry for myself, and sorry for how much I hate myself and how I never give myself enough.

I get lonely a lot but  I think about how I should stay lonely. Because no one needs to deal with the fucked up bullshit I drag along with me, that seems to come from nothing. I don't think anyone would understand, and I don't want to have to make someone understand because it's dark and I don't need to turn off the lights in someone else's life just because mine are turned off. Even if someone else did understand, it would mean that they have all of their own shit to deal with and I couldn't possibly want to give them all my shit too; it wouldn't be good for anymore. I think about how I should keep to myself because I think about leaving too much, and if I leave I want to leave as clean as possible. I mean I shouldn't try to tell anyone about the things that are hard to say, the things that latch on in my trachea and can't make their way out, there are reasons they're hard to say.

Everything is overwhelming and everything seems impossible. If I come out of this, I'm only going to be worse than I ever was.

Sometimes I want to talk to someone about how I used to be the kid who was proud to have 100% or 99% attendance rate and I almost never fell ill, and then the dark came into my head and diffused into my body, and now all I ever get close to is 80% and I want less, I want as little as I can get; I feel sick all the time.

But, there isn't much to mention other than this sickness is as real as any other and it isn't just limited to your mind and it seeps into everything else.

To a(ny) friend in the dark:

Are you sad when you smile?

Does your stomach turn in the lonely dark

Of your own making?

Surrounded by the walls built with

The distance you've made but not chosen 

It's okay, I know it's not all you

It's just the darkness in your mind 

That fills your heart sometimes and 

Holds you down sometimes

I know it feels like all the time.

Breathe, you don't have to give in

I'll hold on if you do so too

I'll search for light if you do so too.

[written 13 August 2014]

Despondency

It is the deep dark undercurrent
Always there by my feet,
Constant and cold.

Then the black wave comes
Heavy and overbearing, it hits hard and harsh
I am down, beneath the surface.
I cannot breathe
Again.

Or I am stuck in the riptide
Of luke warm and cutting chill.
I swim hard, but make no progress.
I am trapped
Again.

Then I give in to the icy torrent
I feel my skin and realise
I am as cold as the gelid sea,
My insides as dark as the immense black wave
And there is a familiar solace in the darkness
Unseen by others.

Warmth is foreign, unfamiliar
The light is too bright with the sun out.
I turn my head away, I don't know how to
Take it in.

I tread, I tread
I tread
Again.

Faded Fears

Faded fears are what I don't possess. I was never a child that was afraid of the dark or the monsters in my closet. I have, however, always been afraid of speaking, when it mattered, to the people who mattered. I am still afraid of failing and falling in every sense of those words; I am still afraid that if I start something I won't be good at it, and so I run away and remain afraid that if I run away I might be leaving something that I might be good at behind. I am still afraid of crying in public, I always fear it will make me look weak, it makes me feel weak. I am afraid of not finding something to live for. I am afraid of being this lonely forever. I am still afraid of showing myself, exposing the flaws I possess, both physically and mentally. I am afraid that I will not be able to love anyone; I am afraid that no one will love me. I am afraid I will never find a place where I am happy; I am afraid I cannot be a place where someone is happy. I am afraid I will never a be a person I can be proud of. I am still afraid of the things I cannot do.