Spitting Towards The Unseen

Two parts in me

If I make a pit and throw myself in

This is crazy to ask

But will you deliver me from self

When I think

Of all the ways I can forfeit what I have

Whisper no.


All isn’t lost, obviously

Demons of depression so seductive

Sultry tone praying you’ll break your own bones

I was a child

Walking asleep

Look off a tall parking deck as pavement called to me

Jump and we’ll meet you here

You’ll be surprised

Take the dare.


Whisper no

Or will I tell God to his face, hey

You made a mistake creating me


In his face screaming you don’t know what you are doing


Why make me when there’s nothing I am good at minus making you mad?


Beating my chest

As if anyone above is scared

Being entirely foolish

Crying out

If you’re just gonna kill me hurry the Hell up

If I make my bed placing razor wires as my pillow

Whisper no

If I make a bath with razors and glass

Please whisper no.

*The poem, the poem is about moments of weakness. The darkness that deals in depression, it is tough. These poems look bleak, but no, I write to show how it feels inside the storm. It may help those who don’t see. It may help seeing despite the chains of dark feelings.*

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