Poems about depression 💜

@LoveMyMoonflowers

Aww thoughtful idea, Niibuddy, thank you for creating this space!💛

I'll start with some poems from the internet. 

From "Home Body" by Rupi Kaur

@LoveMyMoonflowers

I wrote this many years ago.  I thought of it as a song:

“I Wonder If You Know/Chilled to the Bone”

 I believed that intuition told a woman everything

She could tell if a man’s love was true

I thought you could look into my heart

And see the love I had for you

But then the way I heard you say

You thought that I should go

And with the way you turned away

I wonder if you know

Caught in the Storm

Standing all alone

Soaked to the skin

And chilled to the bone

I have a songtext/poem thing, I find typical for depression, hope and fear:

Is Your Love in Vain?

I wish I could take the colours from a rainbow 

and place them into your heart 

so you would remember what beautiful feels like 

and know there is hope in the dark. 

~ Christy Ann Martine 

@LoveMyMoonflowers 💛

@LoveMyMoonflowers

I wrote this, shortly after inheriting my dad's house when he passed.  He let everything go, so it was a mess everywhere in the house, I didn't have anyone to stay there with me or help me with it at the time, and I was sleeping in his old bedroom.  It was the one room that was cleared out of junk, with the exception of one of his gargoyles that happened to have holes instead of eyes.

The Gargoyle With No Eyes

I sink down to my room,
As soon as my soul is thicker than air.
It’s very, very dark in here,
Watched over by the gargoyle with no eyes.

Surrounded by void,
Wondering what’s outside the door.
All of this possibility,
And not one speck of this blackness showed me any love.

No love,
I look longingly at the door,
But that part of me is closed off…
That part of everything  is closed off… 

The eyeholes full of possibility,
They see nothing.
They wouldn’t need to see anything but me here.
And it doesn’t matter, since it knows me so well.

Never gonna be able to build a home out of this,
I’ll never build any place with a shred of innocence.
I’ll never build anything but a place for this door to go,
But… that part of me is closed off… 

I guess I can’t manifest,
I just need to keep sinking.
Secret cupboards in the floor,
At least my gargoyle knows where I am.

I've written NUMEROUS poems about depression for 16 years. I've published some but get a bit shy still to post any. But Anne Sexton is my go to poet to understand myself. Sylvia Plath too but every mental health care provider tells me not to read her...but I do. Sometimes it is healthier to write from retrospect than to write a story about depression while depressed. It establishes it into your brain more. 

Me again with some other lyrics/poem:

Hurt by Jonny cash