To those who feel like they don't know what they feel

To those who feel like they don't know what they feel

A Poem by Chloe

a quick dip into the depths of my subconscious, and views on depression

to the people who feel like they don't know what they feel

me too.
I don't believe there's a word for this feeling
if I struggle to even feel it there's no way it could be put into words
depression is such an over sold understatement
it's the bad fruit they put at the front of the basket in bad attempt to make it seem desirable. and even if you don't pick up the front piece of fruit, you know the good piece you chose has touched it. forever infected by its infectious disease.
it's something you can't get rid of
and acknowledgement just makes its appearancey stronger
it's the reason getting out of bed seems equivalent to lifting the weights that drag you down off of your aching body and putting them into your pocket to make them more portable. but making them portable does not stop them from weighing you down.
it's the reason as soon as you start to smile, and engulf in total and complete utter happiness
you're heart hits a road block
and while you smile and laugh your eyes start to go dim
in realization that this true bliss is a temporary haven from the darkness that will soon follow
so while you struggle to keep the false smile on your face, the rest of your body has realized the truth in that you're not actually happy. it's just to strengthen the comparison of the opposition you're going to feel when this temporary relief is over
which now it is
since you left it take over
once again f*****g everything up
why can't I just let myself be happy!?
smiling through it is like trying to push something out of a black hole, sucking in everything in its wake
well my body is the black hole
and my smile is trying to push itself upward as far and as hard as it can before the black hole grows and engulfs the only thing left in my body that knows how to try
it's the reason everytime I look in any god damn mirror all I see if disappointment and disease. everything that I am and everything that I'm not.
the so called stress and anxiety is making my hair fall out and all I see when I look in that damn mirror is the short end pieces where my hair used to fall long
and the tired expression on my face as if someone took a straight flat piece of aluminum foil, crumpled it into a ball, then attempted to straighten it back out for me to wear as a mask. it hides my face but can't hide the fact that at one point it was crumpled
what do you call that
what possible word can you use to describe every single thing of pain and the shortness of breath I'm experiencing just trying to allow these words to push and shove and make their way out of the black hole trying to swallow them back down
so maybe that word is depression
but I feel like it's much more than that

© 2016 Chloe

Author's Note

first time publishing my deeper thoughts, sorry.

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Added on July 27, 2016
Last Updated on October 12, 2016
Tags: depression, spoken word, pain, suffering, confused



Venice Beach, CA

18 and simply coping more..

you broke me you broke me

A Poem by Chloe