Tag Archives: depression

You ask how I’m doing…

But do you really care?

When I answer truthfully I scare you off.
Is it my honestly?
My dreams?
My pathetic excitement and curiosity in my own life?

You shut me down and criticize me for answering the way I did.
(Whatever that was)
So I am conditioned to not open up.
I close myself off to you.

This pattern cycles around in circles like the seasons.

I begin to think
“What if you are right?”
and I really have palty aspirations
that don’t offer anything to anyone,
that I’m not valuable,
that me being on Earth and me not existing wouldn’t make a difference to you, or anyone.

If anything, it would be less of a hassle if there was less of me..

So why do you ask how I’m doing?


Sorry for the depressing ass shit lately. It’s a phase I’m going through, hopefully. Luckily, I’m remembering how therapeutic writing poetry is for me…you reading this probably understand

“I want to die”

What is this voice inside of me that keeps on saying “I want to die”?

It scares me.

Do I really want to die?

Is it my fate to pass over even before I pass the age to get off my dad’s health insurance plan?

I hope not.

But the voice that wants to die is so loud…
so determined…
to make itself heard and make me FEEL the pain in those words

I justify the dialogue by saying
“It’s just an aspect of my personality that wants to die.”

But how can I be so sure
that those words
“I want to die”
don’t mean all of me?