written some span of time ago; wasn't doing well, but I smirk now, knowing I know nothing at all...
See, I am adamantly insane; somehow, I am still O.K. with that.
I say “I’m depressed.” He replies “Well, undepress yourself; Come to the court with the ball and the women.” I look away listlessly, Knowing the drugs are gone – They have fled. The bottles are sadly empty; Empty cans riddled The window sill. The window pane Screamed with dusty odium, As the sun gleamed with … Continue reading I Was Once Young
I wrote this piece on scratch paper at a rehab facility in a state I had never been to before. I was surrounded by people who cared, yet, I seemed not to care for myself. I then turned inward and tried to piece together my identity -- it all came out as pictures in my head which I transcribed into words as to what I seem to be. This is the mind speaking to the soul.
I am so grateful for writing; I truly, truly believe it has kept me alive this long – without it my life would be utterly meaningless. It provides the spark…the fire present in my flashing eyes, rejuvenating and filling the over-encumbered yet empty spaces in my heart, mind, and soul. I am nothing but an … Continue reading Those Alive Don’t Understand
I’ve started to go to therapy; I’m in tenth grade and I’m severely depressed—not clinically depressed, the kind of depression that is full and gives the full spectrum of the romanticized version of it all. I guess I longed to be a tortured artist, and a starving heart, and at long last I saw it … Continue reading Excerpt From the Book I’ll Never Write