Poetry – Page 16

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time for thoughts

February 4 2017

why?

susangayhart Poetry alone, anxiety, clinical depression, depressed, depression, depression signals, emotions, help, lonely, longing, Major Depressive Disorder, meditation, mental health, mental illness, observing, questioning mental illness, suicidal depression, symptoms, treatment resistant depression

The sun it shines for me
but rain will surely
enter it’s way
for my life is not a picture
in some local magazine

No beautiful mountains to climb
because my pain has washed
them all away
no tall green trees to see this year
because my heart has burned them all down
can’t you see the flames?

Inside, in my mind, to me I
resemble a house made out of glass
my mental illness has taken over
and has began throwing stones
the pieces cut me up as it shatters

The illness, is like lightening or a razor
first it strikes me hard and deep
then cuts my face, my body and my soul
it’s bitter hate I ate
and it’s rotting me away
apart from everything, I simply ask why?
SEG

*I have spent almost my entire life trying to understand mental illness. I figured that once I understood I could then be the puppeteer instead of the puppet. It doesn’t seem to work that way. I wrote this poem in my mid to late twenties. If I got it, I could stop it. Nope.

February 3 2017

the battle

susangayhart Poetry anxiety, battle, clinical depression, demons, depressed, depression, depression signals, emotional battle, fearful, grief, help, hopeful, Major Depressive Disorder, mental health, mental illness, physical battle, running, suicidal depression, suicide prevention, treatment resistant depression, winning

The clouds are dark
but I don’t care
I find myself dancing, dancing around
in the rain and smelling the fresh air

I close my blue eyes
with so much to fear
the fear of all those ugly demons
that are living so near

I discover I’m at battle
in a war I can’t possibly win
I am fighting with all that I’ve got
but realize that my weapons just aren’t enough

I’m running, running so fast
I run and I never look back
I promise myself to struggle to the end
I must not turn back, until I finally win
SEG

*When I wasn’t writing about depression and death I was struggling to find words to keep me here. A written language I could manipulate to fill all the empty spaces inside. A beautiful picture can emerge through ugliness. I used words and still do to motivate and express myself when I am overwhelmed. The feelings easily expressed themselves on paper. If I didn’t feel heard or couldn’t find my voice I always knew I could find something to write on. I have written on some pretty strange items over the years. I believe I wrote this after being told I had clinical depression and anxiety disorder. I would have been 18.

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time for thoughts

why?

the battle

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