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August 3, 2014
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Alone

Sometimes I write poems at random:

Depression is one of those things that a lot of us choose to ignore and pretend doesn’t exist. Until overdose occurs or the cut of the wrist. Until the moment we have no choice but to hear. It scream in silence loud and clear. – Hearing people lose the battle to depression it definitely strikes a chord, vibrates, resonates with me. Trying to appear as though nothing’s wrong embarrassed for people to see. Because you fear they won’t understand how hard it is to reach out your hand. So alone in a corner you chose to stand as you try to be a strong woman/man but your silent screams disturbs your plans… To appear normal. But it’s hard to ignore the deafen screams as you have severe headaches nightmares only… no longer dreams. You awake yelling calling out it fear. Screaming silently but nobody chooses to hear. Instead they turn their backs, cover their ears. The screams become echoes and now they hear. But it’s too late because you’re no longer here. – Nicholson #RIP #Depression #morkIMG_2828.JPG

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