the voice

a poem about my depression

I awaken to a pale darkness

The sun is shining

And though I can see it,

It does not reach me.

The colors around me,

I know them to be bright

But as I gaze at them

Only murky, dull, paleness is obtained.

The birds outside are chirping merrily

But I can barely hear them past the screaming

The screaming that is in my head

No one else hears it �" The Voice.

It is not that of someone else

It is my own voice,

Consumed in my own hatred

The Voice, It does not scream

But rather makes me scream

It speaks to me, reminds me, shows me

How horrible I am

How unworthy I am

How unwanted I am

How lonely I am.

It tells me that things will never change

That I will always be this way

That I will always be destruction

That people will always hate me

And that I will never know happiness.

It mocks me, It tells me everything I do

Is wrong.

It reminds me over and over again

Every fault, mistake, feeling, action, thought,

Every horrible thing.

It reminds me,

Of all the people �" people who I have loved-

who have betrayed me.

It reminds me of how even the people

People who should have loved me,

Even they turn their backs on someone so worthless.

I lay here in the blankets as the voice continues.

The blankets that both  hide me from the world…

And suffocate me in their cage.

Slowly, I get up.

I walk to the dresser and stair at my clothes,

Remembering a time when I would have cared

When I would have found the cutest top

Matched it with nice jeans.

Now, now is different

I look for a long sleeve shirt

The blackest shirt to reflect my mood,

And to hide any stains that may later be on it

I grab a pair of baggy jeans,

So as not to scrape my skin.

I look in the mirror.

The Voice, it tells me I am ugly

It tells me I am fat

That I am not worth love

For who could ever want someone so hideous.

I begin to put make up on

Trying to ignore The Voice

Even as im thinking that It is right.

Completed I look again.

To dark, it says.

Eye liners crooked as well

I go to fix it but stop

What does it matter?

You’re still ugly!

Your own mother doesn’t even want you!

Maybe wear a paper bag?

Or better yet,

A plastic one

I try to block it out.

But im still looking in the mirror.

And im holding the razor in my hand.

Do it, it says, make me go away,

Slice!

I look down as a trickle of blood leaves my arm

Still here!

Slice!

Nice try,

Slice! Blood drips from my arm to the bathroom sink

The voice, its quite.

But I know it’ll come back.

I stair at the razor. Maybe I should… listen

Maybe… if I die…

The voice will stop… but

If I die then…

The alarm goes off.

I need to leave. Soon

I cover the cuts with paper towels,

Ill clean them later.

I pocket the razor.

And slide my black sleeve into place.

I look back in the mirror.

And let my hair fall over my face

I go to work.

No body notices that my smiles are fake,

That my voice is flat,

That my eyes are empty.

no one hears the lie,

when I say I’m fine.

And no one sees the cuts,

Lining my body, my arms, legs, stomach

Even when I wash my hands

No one notices

And if they do,

They don’t care.

No one listens

Because they’re too caught up in their lives

To care about someone else’s.

And why should they, It says,

You are a no body.

I cringe at the voice but try to keep the fake smile.

Every face that passes

Every smile I see

They all look like sneers,

Liars and b*****s,

They don’t know me, or really even see me

They just see the young cashier

Way below them

They have their own opinions of me

They see a girl who didn’t go to college

Someone who was probably too stupid

Or someone who probably whored around to much

And now has a kid

Irrisponable, stupid, uneducated.

That’s all they see.

None of them can see the pain

The agony

The despair.

No of them care that I am haunted by nightmares

None of them care that I have lost everything

That I have no family

That I lost my child

That I was abandoned by everyone

Repeatedly

That I pour my heart and soul into everything

To have it backfire

As I lose friend after friend

And eventually have no one left

Because I am too afraid to trust anymore

To let anyone that close

And yet… I still give the shirt of my back

To the random strangers I meet

But they don’t see that and they don’t care.

The people I work with… pretend.

They think they are better than the costumers…

But they are worse

The costumers don’t lie, don’t act like they care

These people do

Just to turn their backs on me

Just to feed me to the wolves.

You should just end it, The Voice says.

The world will be better off.

I shudder and try to drown it out

But as I do

I wonder how long it will be

Before I listen

And I agree.

I get home

I eat a cracker.

I am not really hungry

Though I wish I were

I wish I had the motivation…

The will to care what I ate

But I have no desire to cook

No want of anything that takes effort

So I eat a cracker.

I go to my room and crawl back under the blankets

I close my eyes

And I cry…

Silently at first

Then gut retching sobs.

And if anyone hears me

They don’t care

I cry and cry

Until there is nothing left in me

Just the emptiness

And The Voice

Its taunting me

Telling me how weak I am

I try to drown it out

Its not working

So I cut again

And again

Until it stops

And then I lay in bed

And clothes me eyes

and fall asleep in the silence of my mind

only to be terrorized by nightmares

memories from my past

I awaken in the morning

It feels like I never slept

Every thing is the same

As I begin my day again.

But I know it cant continue like this

I know I cant keep doing this

I don’t want to live like this

But I know it wont end

So I decide I just don’t want to live

I don’t look at the sun

Or the colors

Or the clothes

 I lock the door to my room

And then the bathroom.

I stare in the mirror one last time.

Nothing, you are nothing

You are worthless

And you deserve to die,

The Voice says

And I find myself agreeing.

I pick up the knife.

And I cut,

For the last time,

I cut.

And all goes mercifully silent.

Reviews

[sabine]

Wow, this is incredibly powerful and so full of raw emotion! Although I have not personally struggled with depression, I have many friends who do and you did an amazing job of expressing the pain and struggle that come along with having depression. I am so sorry that you feel this way, but I pray that one day you will look back and be glad that you didn't end it all. Suicide is never the answer and no matter how alone you feel, there is always someone out there who cares about you and would miss you if you left. I hate to be "that person," but if you are feeling suicidal, you might want to talk to someone. 1-800-273-8255 is a number you can call and be connected with someone who can help.
But your poem itself is beautiful and extremely impactful, you did a really good job