Nutshell

ChloƩ

Inside my head is a tv on fuzz.

Buzzing on a endless loop.

Empty.
I am surrounded by people, lots of people.
But no one sees me.
I am alone in my depression.
My depression feeds off me.
It tears through me like paper, but stains like ink.
It will never disappear.
No matter how many times I try to wash it clean.
It dirties my soul.
Takes away my happiness.
Takes away my sadness until there’s nothing.
I’m numb.
And sometimes I ache for depression to come back and comfort me with a blanket of loneliness so I can feel at least something.
I don’t want to die.
I don’t want to live either.
My heart is beating but I don’t think it deserves too.
For I am a waste.
A waste of life, a waste of oxygen and a waste of a body.
I am polluted with so much sadness and pain.
But I would rather keep that to myself then tell someone and spread the disease I have carried for so long on to their shoulders just to relieve my own.
Nobody can help.
Go to the doctors they say.
They don’t listen.
They don’t understand.
Your young you should be happy.
But if I am happy then why do I feel like every step I am being dragged through the mud.
I am suffocating under water except there is no water.
Why does every breathe tremor.
Why is everything crushing me.
Why do I feel like I have no control over my life.
I want to be happy.
I want to do things normal people do.
But my mind won’t allow it.
You see my depression holds a place in my head.
And in my head is where it stirs it’s master plans.
I wish I stayed in contact with my friends.
But depression told me not to.
I wish I could go for walks.
But depression tells me my bed will be cold when I get back.
My name is depression.
And I have a best friend anxiety.
Though I have a strange feeling she’s best friends with bipolar.
I feel her lingering trying to whisper through my ears into my head like it’s a party everyone is invited to.
Except for me.
I think the reason I am so so scared of ghosts and demons.
Is because my depression is a demon
It takes over my mind and body until I have no control and become a puppet to my own life.
I am my own worst nightmare.

 

  • Author: C.W (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: November 16th, 2017 16:27
  • Category: Sad
  • Views: 22
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments1

  • BRIAN & ANGELA

    WELCOME CHLOE ~ Thanks for sharing your first Poem ! I am sorry it is so so full of depression and personal sadness and self abnegation. However I always find sharing MY SADNESSES in a Poem is cathartic and I feel better for it ! I trust you will as well ! MPS is a very empathetic site so you will find comfort and not rejection ! It works on a share & care basis. If you comment on others Poems and request FRIENDSHIP ~ they will comment on your Poems and befriend you ~ OK ~ Every blessing ~ thinking of you ~ Yours BRIAN (UK) Please check my Poems ~ Thanks B



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.