Here we go again.
The rushing water behind these eyes of glass, is running stronger,
pushing and cracking the thin brown crystal bearer which holds back the flood,
the settle whispers in the back of my mind have turned to screams originating from every possible corner.
Here we go again,
overthinking than not thinking at all,
feeling everything all at once and so deeply that I am forced to become numb to deal with myself,
numb… thoughtless… quiet…
because if the crack becomes large enough,
if a single drop escapes the glazed wall the whole bearer will come crashing down,
releasing the flood,
so violent and loud,
destroying everything in its path.
I look at my patterned legs and itch to run a blade across, then close my heavy eyes and hope they will never open again.
This is so accurate of how I am slowly starting to feel. I can tell my depression medicine is slowly becoming useless. I can also tell that I am pushing certain people away by being complete and total jerk to them but isn't it for the best. They don't deserve to spend their days worrying about my sadness and depression. Not only worrying but they don't deserve to become infected by my contagious sadness. Actually, at the moment, I have more anger if anything. I'm mad at myself. I'm mad at myself for letting people get close to me when I know my depression is only going to continue it's terrible reign of sadness, despair, anger, etc. I'm going to continue to fake my way through life as if my best friend never tradgically died. I'll pretend that I don't have to watch it on reply in my head everyday for the rest of my life. I'll pretend to be the happy, joyous Liz that everyone once knew. I'll pretend.
The rushing water behind these eyes of glass, is running stronger,
pushing and cracking the thin brown crystal bearer which holds back the flood,
the settle whispers in the back of my mind have turned to screams originating from every possible corner.
Here we go again,
overthinking than not thinking at all,
feeling everything all at once and so deeply that I am forced to become numb to deal with myself,
numb… thoughtless… quiet…
because if the crack becomes large enough,
if a single drop escapes the glazed wall the whole bearer will come crashing down,
releasing the flood,
so violent and loud,
destroying everything in its path.
I look at my patterned legs and itch to run a blade across, then close my heavy eyes and hope they will never open again.
This is so accurate of how I am slowly starting to feel. I can tell my depression medicine is slowly becoming useless. I can also tell that I am pushing certain people away by being complete and total jerk to them but isn't it for the best. They don't deserve to spend their days worrying about my sadness and depression. Not only worrying but they don't deserve to become infected by my contagious sadness. Actually, at the moment, I have more anger if anything. I'm mad at myself. I'm mad at myself for letting people get close to me when I know my depression is only going to continue it's terrible reign of sadness, despair, anger, etc. I'm going to continue to fake my way through life as if my best friend never tradgically died. I'll pretend that I don't have to watch it on reply in my head everyday for the rest of my life. I'll pretend to be the happy, joyous Liz that everyone once knew. I'll pretend.
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