Days gone by are what hold me prisoner here this day.
Days yet to come hold the keys that will set me free.
So close and yet so far away.
Sucking the life out of me.
All hope dwindles.
Darkness is falling all around me.
Despair tears apart my heart and soul.
My mind cracked and started to crumble a long, long time ago.
Apathy and atrophy set in.
I am weak, I am broken, I am desolate.
Left all alone.
Just as I wanted it.
But, I must say that one must be careful what one wishes for.
The silence screams inside my head.
Echoing on and on and on forever.
I can no longer stand it.
I'm down on hands and knees.
I can no longer take it.
My hands are empty and bloodied.
My eyes, hollow and sunken into my skull.
I am but a vision of my former self.
Not that my former self was any better off.
All my dreams turned to nightmares.
Robbing me of my innocence.
Taking away that child-like faith.
No more wonder beyond wonder.
My skies are bled red.
I sit and cry tears in acid rain.
As I sink deeper down within myself.
Dark grows pushing me into a total absence of light existence.
That plane is so cold.
I did not ascend, but I did descend.
I cry out with silence.
I am going insane.
Quiet lucidity slowly becomes my dementia.
Throw me into a soul asylum.
Medicate me to numbness.
Lock me away and throw away the key into an ocean.
Forget all about me.
Pretend that I do not exist and I never did.
Just a fleeting thought.
A figment of an ignored imagination.
Lying on a bed of nails and thorns.
But I feel nothing.
I am bleeding out my life.
Soon to be completely empty.
My days are all the same.
One just melds into another.
I never pay no notice.
It's all the same to me.
A living hell I am dying.
Another moment passes.
I well remember all my afflictions and harms.
I am helpless to do anything.
I do not give a damn anyway.
And who cares anyway?
I am waiting for my life to begin.
I have been living dead for far too long.
Here I lie, unable to move.
I cannot breathe.
I cannot think, for I am afraid to.
Just like I am afraid to live, and even more so, I am afraid to even try to.
Just like the boy Icarus, my wings of wax melted.
I plunged so far down.
I crashed and crashed hard.
With no survivors.
These days do not show any favour to me.
I am filled with disdain.
My world is scorched.
My life has been razed.
Set to flame by all my memories.
The ones who will let not go of me, the ones I cannot let go of either.
Just another burden for me to struggle and fail to bear.
Still on my hands and knees.
Mired in blood soaked mud.
I realize I am just not ready to live.
I am just not ready for myself.
The tide is rising too quickly for me.
I am overwhelmed.
I am weary.
I am angry.
Who put me here after all?
Who left me here?
Who deserted me?
I was left for dead out in the bitter cold.
Can anyone tell me who I am.
I just do not know, as I ever have.
I am not hopeless for I have never had any.
I am not helpless for I have never received any.
You cannot miss what you never had in the first place.
Where is the last place?
That's where I want to go.
I have wasted all my options, they were none.
All I have now is one last resort.
Standing on the edge, I think to myself, six feet doesn't seem that far down.
Oh, the gall of it all.
Oh, the folly of the fool.
I am the fool.
As the dog returns to his vomit, so too I return to my infirmities.
I carry all my afflictions.
They have all permeated all of my very being.
I am saturated.
I continue to hemorrhage internally within my soul.
I am drowning in the crimson ocean of my own tears.
Oh God, please save me?
God, can You save me?
God, will You save me?
Where are You?
Where am I?
Is this my end?
It might as well be.



  1. Depression, the most misunderstood of all mental illnesses.
    And yet, it's the most talked about one.
    It's not just being "depressed", nor is it just "feeling down", nor is it just feeling "melancholy."
    It is very real, something to be reckoned with, something to hold of the highest of respect.
    Depression kills
    One in five teens suffer from depression, and depression is the number one killer of youths next to accidental deaths.
    It is also very prevalent in adults, as is suicide, with women more so than men.
    I wrote this to illustrate what depression can be like metaphorically and figuratively.
    I did draw from my own experiences with my own battles and struggles with depression, as well as living with someone, my dad, who suffered from Major Depressive Disorder.
    Simply put, in summarizing this poem, depression is a living hell. It is torment, torture, anguish, despair, and so on...
    But, I believe even when all is hopeless there is still a small speck of hope, that will give one the strength to cry out for help.

  2. Anonymous5/12/13 08:06

    This sums up so much how I feel..I have dealt with depression most of my life..I have heard it all "get over it" "you need to go to church" "nothing makes you happy"...I wish someone could just be me for one day.I wake up and I dread it..I take benadryl because when I sleep I can just forget how miserable I feel and how suicide the thought that one act would end this pain and misery seems so appealing. My faith is shaken and I hang on for my kids alone..I do not want to do that to them...but it is so hard. I thank you and pray one day you will find peace.

  3. Thank you for sharing a bit of your story.
    I can relate somewhat to it.
    Sleep for me too is an escape, but there are the nightmares I have from time to time. Man, there's just no escape for me! lol
    I usually sink into a very deep, dark depressive mood pretty well every evening and into the night.
    I dread going to sleep because it means I will have to wake up again and the struggle with each day day begins all over again. So I put off going to sleep sometimes for fear of the morrow.
    But then I feel super over tired the next day making my depressive moods all the stronger lasting through most of the day.
    It's not like this for me every day, but when it does happen it usually lasts for a period of a few weeks.

  4. I know what you mean, i dread the morning...i see no point in me being here, i cannot work, my kids are all grown up...what live for going to pysch appointments, and grocery store...no i have been betrayed by my family, no one calls to see if i am dead or alive...i am so done...i will not live another year like this. God bless you Scott, i pray you have peace one day.

  5. Stay strong and hang in there, you're not alone in this or anything. Prayers for you.


I'd love to know what you think of this poem.