I hope you all had a lovely Christmas and have a lovely new year.
Since, leaving the mental health ward, poetry has helped me communicate with my father and therapist about how I am feeling on a basic level.
I find Christmas a hard time, because the cold makes my joint pain and moods worse, and I feel quite lonely (being single now). Today, I am sharing with you my latest mental health poem. Feedback is welcome, as always.
Lots of Love,
Trigger Warning: Suicide
I am broken, destroyed – can I be saved?
As the underworld reaching out their elongated hands,
I can hear whispers, they can stop the pain and my mind enslaved.
It is tempting to be punished for all my sins – no one seems to understand.
Be happy and self-love they say, with many prayers you will be okay.
I have not succumbed to another suicide attempt, due to your unconditional love.
However, time is of the essence and I am not sure how much longer I can withstand.
No signs of a man caring about me or becoming my dear beloved.
This is not the livelihood I envisioned or planned.
Depression, is that never-ending tunnel – no one is fully exempt.
When the voices command, I loose control, cut the skin deep and ooze out blood.
Clearly, the Quetiapine and Sertaline cannot keep me fully contempt.
Therapists say, I need to forget the past and traumatic childhood.
Although, I relive it every time I shut my green eyes full of envy,
I am jealous of the healthy strutting around with invisible crowns on their heads.
When I awake, I look frightened as I am submerged in an ocean of my cries.
Yet, I still fight day by day to live, instead of torturing you my father from being dead.
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