Depression Poems
#depression
Depression takes a person beyond feelings of sadness, to a very dark and lonely place. Poetry about depression offers the reader a glimpse into this darkness and isolation. Depression is a serious mental disorder. A creative outlet, like writing poetry, can offer relief to some sufferers.
there's tears in my coffee and it only makes me more anxious
I'm gonna pretend
there isn't kiddo vomit
on my only heavy blanket
spot check
scrub
let it go
cause I won't make it
to the laundromat today
and I haven't got around
to buying a new winter heater
though the cold is starting
to keep me up at night
I can already tell
it's going to be a day
of too many tears
a day of anger
and resentment
a day my voice gets so loud
no one can be around me
without covering their ears
and telling me to calm down
though those words ...
there isn't kiddo vomit
on my only heavy blanket
spot check
scrub
let it go
cause I won't make it
to the laundromat today
and I haven't got around
to buying a new winter heater
though the cold is starting
to keep me up at night
I can already tell
it's going to be a day
of too many tears
a day of anger
and resentment
a day my voice gets so loud
no one can be around me
without covering their ears
and telling me to calm down
though those words ...
#anger
#depression
#family #MentalHealth
#family #MentalHealth
27 reads
2 Comments
Pictures of Childhood Part 4
#abuse
#bipolar
#childhood
#depression
#memories
14 reads
2 Comments
The poor trait of Dorian Gray
Took a photo of himself
in a wave of selfie registration.
To remember himself young,
untouched,
no wrinkles.
He never published it on the networks:
There were too many marks,
scratches, grooves and other texts
in his selfish portrait...
Years passed.
He never remembered her again.
It was forgotten in the files
of the telephone device.
His behaviors
marked the faces
of many men, women,
lovers and haters.
He died, obviously,
in a moment of time
and everyone agreed
that...
in a wave of selfie registration.
To remember himself young,
untouched,
no wrinkles.
He never published it on the networks:
There were too many marks,
scratches, grooves and other texts
in his selfish portrait...
Years passed.
He never remembered her again.
It was forgotten in the files
of the telephone device.
His behaviors
marked the faces
of many men, women,
lovers and haters.
He died, obviously,
in a moment of time
and everyone agreed
that...
#anxiety
#apathy
#boredom
#depression
#WritingPoetry
58 reads
10 Comments
remnants
if you were an insect
...you would be luminous
if you were uncertain
...you would be radiant
if you were absorbed
...you would be personified
if you were uneducated
...you would be certified
...if you were wrong
I would take you for granted
...if you were unique
I would make you radical
...if you were light
I would think you wimsical
I would eat you
full of love
and desires
and stuff like that
...without any regrets
...you would be luminous
if you were uncertain
...you would be radiant
if you were absorbed
...you would be personified
if you were uneducated
...you would be certified
...if you were wrong
I would take you for granted
...if you were unique
I would make you radical
...if you were light
I would think you wimsical
I would eat you
full of love
and desires
and stuff like that
...without any regrets
#anxiety
#apathy
#depression
#forgiveness
#sadness
38 reads
2 Comments
Stitches
I knew I had to stop the bleeding,
so I entered mental health treatment,
and though I am stitched back together,
my mind, soul and body are disconnected.
I can no more live in an imaginary shelter.
No! I want to live in wild madness!
Psychotherapy and antipsychotics
do not hold a candle to the fun of madness!
Look into my eyes where my soul bleeds out.
Look closer, hopelessness will scream silently.
A teary soul stitched to a manic mind,
hollow of both my body now is!
Soul bled out, I am both sorrowful and...
so I entered mental health treatment,
and though I am stitched back together,
my mind, soul and body are disconnected.
I can no more live in an imaginary shelter.
No! I want to live in wild madness!
Psychotherapy and antipsychotics
do not hold a candle to the fun of madness!
Look into my eyes where my soul bleeds out.
Look closer, hopelessness will scream silently.
A teary soul stitched to a manic mind,
hollow of both my body now is!
Soul bled out, I am both sorrowful and...
#dark
#depression
#emotional
#LifeStruggles
#MentalHealth
65 reads
5 Comments
From the Desk of Doubt
I must be a demon
must be an angel
my name must have been Purgatory
in another life
and you must have been bored
to force me to take physical form
to force me to walk among these minor gods
dazed and confused
ashamed and blind
I think my blood is poison
is holy water
is something better drained from me
because I feel nauseous
I am sick
swinging between fever dreams and
nightmares that make blood run cold
this body rejects itself
sometimes I catch sight of a halo
hanging over my head ...
must be an angel
my name must have been Purgatory
in another life
and you must have been bored
to force me to take physical form
to force me to walk among these minor gods
dazed and confused
ashamed and blind
I think my blood is poison
is holy water
is something better drained from me
because I feel nauseous
I am sick
swinging between fever dreams and
nightmares that make blood run cold
this body rejects itself
sometimes I catch sight of a halo
hanging over my head ...
#depression
#identity
#religion
26 reads
0 Comments
Pictures of Childhood Part 3
(Dedicated to my parents with love, who wanted the best for me and did the best they could.)
Mom tells me I'm the best at everything. That I'm better than all the other kids. She picks out all my clothes for me. Tells me what to say and what to think. When I disappoint her, she takes away her love. It's like hands that hold yours and they're suddenly retracting. Leaving and being placed back in their lap. I feel like I'm six again and lost in the mall. Frantically searching for her. Where's my mommy? I ask every stranger. But no one knows. She's gone.
Piano...
Mom tells me I'm the best at everything. That I'm better than all the other kids. She picks out all my clothes for me. Tells me what to say and what to think. When I disappoint her, she takes away her love. It's like hands that hold yours and they're suddenly retracting. Leaving and being placed back in their lap. I feel like I'm six again and lost in the mall. Frantically searching for her. Where's my mommy? I ask every stranger. But no one knows. She's gone.
Piano...
#childhood
#depression
#love
#memories
#sadness
58 reads
2 Comments
dark
there is, in me, a discontent
so deeply rooted it's flowered
across every period of my life
the blooms are lovely
I've been told
good for my art
because without this sadness
I don't know where I'd find my muse
but there is so much ugliness
to be found in the slow process
of cultivating my dissatisfaction
from the poisoning of any feeling,
any person that brings me relief,
the self-sabotage,
the sleepless nights and
caffeine addiction
I've been told it's worth it
that artists must suffer for their...
so deeply rooted it's flowered
across every period of my life
the blooms are lovely
I've been told
good for my art
because without this sadness
I don't know where I'd find my muse
but there is so much ugliness
to be found in the slow process
of cultivating my dissatisfaction
from the poisoning of any feeling,
any person that brings me relief,
the self-sabotage,
the sleepless nights and
caffeine addiction
I've been told it's worth it
that artists must suffer for their...
#conflict
#depression
31 reads
1 Comment
Silence
Starting to recover from this episode of Detachment. Although I use the word recover lightly. What I am dreading is when I start to readjust back to reality. But what if I just stayed detached? I don’t like how I am constructed psychologically. My thoughts operate on their own volition, flooding me with either multiple subjects or it fixates on a singular point in my memory. It affects many aspects of my life. Professionally, socially, interpersonally. I can be a burden for people who want to be close to me, that’s probably what stings the most.
Doesn’t feel like this will last...
Doesn’t feel like this will last...
#acceptance
#bipolar
#depression
#MentalHealth
#shame
39 reads
0 Comments
Wisdom
Wisdom is a pipe dream.
We are all fools.
We all know everything,
except true knowings.
When we are born,
we bawl and scream,
grope towards the end
of our serene gestation.
So why not
titter, laugh, and smooch?
We are all fools.
We all know everything,
except true knowings.
When we are born,
we bawl and scream,
grope towards the end
of our serene gestation.
So why not
titter, laugh, and smooch?
#dark
#depression
#love
#sadness
#suffering
52 reads
0 Comments
Numb Little Bug
Do you ever get tired of life?
With thoughts,wild at night.
Do you ever wish you were free?
Or be someone else entirely?
Like you are alive,but not there.
And you don't want to die.
And nobody seems to share.
And I just want to see if this will make me happy.
I'm tired of pretending I care,when I don't.
I have sympathy,it's true.
Surely,you can see it too.
But at this point ,I don't feel a single thing.
From the medication I had to count.
I tried everything to heal.
It's like I want to shed a tear. ...
With thoughts,wild at night.
Do you ever wish you were free?
Or be someone else entirely?
Like you are alive,but not there.
And you don't want to die.
And nobody seems to share.
And I just want to see if this will make me happy.
I'm tired of pretending I care,when I don't.
I have sympathy,it's true.
Surely,you can see it too.
But at this point ,I don't feel a single thing.
From the medication I had to count.
I tried everything to heal.
It's like I want to shed a tear. ...
#depression
#hope
#uplifting
37 reads
0 Comments
Sighs of Winds
Shadows sliver days
Nightmare contours shades
Only flesh colors the grey
Inside lays graveyards of pain
I’ve decayed to dust
Waiting to bury bodies
Sighs of wind shovel us
Nightmare contours shades
Only flesh colors the grey
Inside lays graveyards of pain
I’ve decayed to dust
Waiting to bury bodies
Sighs of wind shovel us
#apathy
#depression
#emptiness #SelfHarm
#emptiness #SelfHarm
52 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Depression Poems