She sat wondering what he saw in her She wasn’t the colorful person anymore The one that laughed louder than most Danced until her legs gave way to gravity She wasn’t the girl with the goth hair Or the one wearing the fishnets and heels She wasn’t that girl anymore She was too old, too…
Crashes about on rocks Sharp, cutting, slicing The wind keeps following Pushing me to move But I don’t want to, can’t Legs feel like headstones As sand etches words Into my broken skin My lips hide from hope As my heart leaps And falls back again A painfully dark cycle I stand as a…
The cracks will swallow you When you least expect them to The deep dark veins below Snake around your feet And slither silently to and fro Ubiquitously lacing surfaces Unapologetic and merciless With obscure secrets to bestow Giving air to the beasts beneath Who wait patiently to consume Eventually and completely The humanity that treads…
Certain names Just the spelling of them Or the places you see them Or the context which they’re placed Make you want to slit your wrists Certain scenes Remind you that you are garbage A piece of trash, disposable, used A pile of shit to be carefully avoided Or even worse Turn you into the…
I can tell because of the fog That I must take special care I must write my name in it On the foggy piece of glass So as to not forget myself It’s easy to get lost inside The wisps of “here nor there” Surrounded by smoky layers Of “what if’s” and “why not’s”…
The smooth surface feels like glass Pressed hard against my wet cheek Shapes dancing just inside memories Behind curtains of shame and regret I see shifting blurs race to and fro Dripping down the canvas of yesterday Stripes that don’t last, or change Bright spots that linger when you blink Peeling itself off the tapestry, alive…
Voodoo cursed And jury tried Condemned For her humanity Her lips sewn With wooden vines Cross stitched Haphazardly through Previous scars And healing scabs Keep those emotions Those hard feelings To yourself they said As they sentenced them Forever imprisoned Inside a fleshy tomb To rot and decay Inside her fucked up brain
Written for anyone who is stuck in the dance with anxiety and depression. It isn’t an easy dance to cut away from. One of the hardest things for someone suffering from depression is to reach out for help. Depression causes a person to isolate and feel unworthy of life. Don’t let depression lie to you……
HASTYWORDS 