Depressing Poems

Somebody’s Hell

Published by

Ashley

A life full of happiness and joy

I am free to live my life

Or am I?

It seems like I can’t make any of my choices

They are always done for me.

My emotions are only limited at a certain

time or length

My life isn’t mine

I’m living someone else’s hell.

Spiritually bond to these walls

I feel like a prisoner….

Day by night and night by day

I am depressed as I ever was

I am no longer the puppet master

I’m the puppet being controlled

but that’s when I wonder if I was ever the puppet master..

The lies of happiness have been twisted and hidden away from me.

Im here living a life that is a lie

This isn’t my life..

This is somebody else hell.

I break this bond and free my self

I am free..free enough to

live my life the way I want to..

I am free

General’s daughter

Published by

brianmugere

In studio window,

I see a sight…

She shakes and twists to a tune I can’t comprehend.

The rhythm of her motion tells me its a sweet tune

That I and Her could intimate-one step-two step to…

Damn, I love her hair,
that oily mass down her neck…

I am pacing about the window seals,

Drooling over what an Angel!

I am wishing she could slip a dangle about my side…

But,

In the middle of my wishful castles,

A hollow voice…

(what are you drooling at young man? We don’t entertain idlers here about! Understand?!)

I am taken by surprise

Shrinking at the condescending fellow.

My eye meeting his at once.

He wears a grey-black combat and holds a gun.

(He wears a mean face, and I am short, epileptic.)

“Yes, ye, xe, ye, yes sir.”

Taking my leave as I step back step by step.
I didn’t miss the five stars on his collar.

Baby, you didn’t tell me your dad’s gards watch you everywhere…

Or, was that the general?!

Depression – by Jennifer

Published by

Jennifer

I need to know a way I wouldn’t get sent back into the dark closet.
Depression steps out and takes his hand out.
I have to reach it. He convinces me, he says I’m not good enough.
He gives me a ton of reasons for why I should think that. He always win. He says he’s my best friend.
I believe it. Friends support you. Well depression has been with me when I was little.
It made me stronger by giving me experience. Im proud of him.
Its stupid for saying that but its true. He takes over me like a dark cloud coming towards town.
We can’t stop it. He follows me everywhere. You can’t see him but he’s behind my back.
Even he knows he’s dangerous but sometimes he’s nice. He controls me, how i act to people.
Nobody likes it when he’s inside of me. But I’m also smart enough not letting him speak.
He speaks the truth. The truth hurts.
But now, telling everyone about my depression makes me feel relief.
I push depression back into his closet and lock it! I am myself. I don’t need him. I won.
I hope he doesn’t break the door but for now
.. Im free :)

I never know what time it is

Published by

Wachinagi

I have no thoughts to express, no feelings to explain, but despite this lack of motivation, my hands insist there is something to say.  I guess I’ll see what’s on their mind:

It seems as though my internal clock is running fast, or perhaps not set correctly.

When I am awake, the world sleeps.  I sleep when they, the world, wakes.  They scurry about like rodents  looking for the crumbs from my dreams.  They feed on my passions, they gorge themselves on my waste.  I wake to find them fat and slow, and I run fleet footed around their bloated forms; almost corpses.  They are so much slower than I am, and they are competing in a crowd of likewise stagnant people.  How they ever hope to become more than this, I can’t imagine.

Then why do I always feel like I am somehow failing?  That somehow they are so much better off than I?

It seems like such a simple thing, to stop running, to feast on garbage, to take and take, give nothing in return.  To horde and scrounge and drool and embrace selfishness.  If I could just do this, I could be as happy as they seem to be.

Pretending

I have to hold to the idea that they are not happy.  That they, just like me, are just very good at pretending.  That deep inside they are as alone as I am, as constantly sad, and perhaps just as disgusted with themselves.  As long as I can believe this, I can see that it is better to remain fast, free and alone.  As long as I can believe this, I can remain myself.  Someday though, perhaps someday soon, I think I might just give in, give up, and quit running.  If I allow myself a closer look, I’ll see there really is no difference between myself and them.

That’s the thought breaks my heart today.

Written thougts of an indecisive nobody

Published by

JR

Im honestly just a guy.

as much as said that I’m different and special, i swear to god I’m really not.

when i tell u that i love you, and i miss you…my heart skips, my breath stops and my stomach feels light.

its because I’m lying..so when i said i love you, all those things happen because, my heart stops beating. My Lungs stop Breathing, and my stomach wants to throw it all up.

i can’t love, I’m incapable, without you, i can live forever, ur just there for the title. girlsfriend, wtf????

This fairy tale of finding the right one is like saying Santa was the one who left the lights on. thats kid stuff..

no heres where it gets complicated…what i can offer you is never ending tears, long days of fighting, rough nights of arguing, headaches, heartbreaks and everything else.

im not meant for that lifestyle but for some reason i still pretend like i want to be happy..

im a f*ckhead, and my point in life is to f*ck up everything good that comes my way, friends family, relationships and opportunities.

day by day i become more n more aware of that, day by day i become more n more used to it..

the idea of f*cking up on a daily basis and blaming no one but myself…no excuses no lies, or fake stories to make up…

now get this contradiction…

if what i am saying is true, then for me to be happy, i have to deal with the fact that i have to be unhappy.

hmm, there goes my life.