A poem I wrote this summer. Yay, depression!
I'm alive
In some strange sense of the word
Meaning that my self-destructive
tendencies haven't quite overpowered
The grace of my God
I'm sick
And have been for a while now
Choking and unable to breathe. Adding
to the misery
While a small voice in my head whispers
that this is just what I deserve
After all,
I'm broken
Beyond repair
A mess of plans gone wrong and a
disaster waiting to happen
I'm trapped
As the things I loved and the things I
wished for and dreamed of came within my grasp
And then quietly slipped away.
All the while,
I'm struggling
To put aside these thoughts
Of glittering knives and speeding cars
and venomous snakes
Whispering to me of easy ends
I'm helpless
Watching the people I love cry from
things I have said
and being completely unable to fix it.
Unable to make them understand
I'm trying
My hardest to remember that even in
this nightmare, even when it seems that all is lost and the daylight
will never come
My God is in control.
I'm repeating
To myself what I'm trying to see as
true:
This will not
destroy me, He has not forgotten me, and
In spite of me,
All will be well
again.
