PoetrySad Poems

Dear Depression

My pen has fallen slave to the thirst of bleeding, bleeding daily unendingly on these blank sheets of paper engraving empty words,
my heart sunken by grief ripping it out piece by piece,
living has become a burden that’s hard to bear,
every breath I take is like surrendering to immortality of melancholies. So to my friends, in case you’re reading this poem… this is an explanation to you, explaining why my face knows no smile, why my lips crack whenever I force them to curve. My companion for the last four or seven years has been words that carry enough colour to paint the hues of the ocean dark…The darkness of my soul is as deep as the crimson of the red moon… I listen to the cries of my inner demons… they’re too afraid, they screaming, scarting to free themselves… the beating of my heart is more than usual; it wants to escape its cardiac asylum… for a longtime it has been deprived of love feelings and care.
The voyage of love has had its turns and twist… the punctured tires apparently too deflated to reach the destination, a civil strife between the brain and the heart has brought the body nation to a stand still…
My head and fingers are not in sync…I’m here typing how life is a bitch serving depression to us who make life worthwile, imortalizing everything and anything that comes in contact with our souls.
So I’m stretching the boundaries of imagination tripping and falling into abbys just to feed you hunger for content and muse, my keyboard distressed from constant pressing… I’m seeking awesomeness of life in the shadows of death… loyal to old school codes and rules… I’m cuffing my cochlea and focusing on the pieces of crumpled notes on my table trying to free-throw a three pointer to my dustbin, the pessimism of my thoughts has made me suicidal… daily sinking into oblivion regrets and sorrow crown the emptiness,
logical truths on the alters of death…

So I breathe life to dead letters of the alphabet… random formation of words giving life to poems that show the future,
revealing actions of the left side of my chest, my mouth is frozen for I can’t speak, so I let my words speak
I am not afraid to die… but living dead daily… scares me to my grave..
Four generations… my ancestors lurking in the shadows… sometimes tempting me to join them,
screaming and chanting down my days… every breath I take is a countdown to reality

so I write,
I ink pages as inspiration dictates,
earphones on music full blast… I am cutting pieces of my heart and sharing to the world… sharing my vulnarability to this wicked world
offering solutions to souls broken,
bleeding and too tired to breath
too tired to make that step to life, that step of going out, so I keep to me solitude,
this is for everyboy languishing in the friendzone
this is for every heartbroken girl struggling to get Mr. Right, this is for that celibate who thinks it’s wrong to dedicate yourself to the Most High…this is for every virgin out her soaking their pillows with tears of criticism for apparently
not having done it,
This is for every guy who still struggles to sleep at 4am in the night too single that even single isn’t single enough
So live,
bleed emotions on this heartless world that they start asking if you are an angel…
Live life hoping your story makes a platinum series movie
Be you… a mixture of Mother Teresa and Maya Angelou, Obama and Trump.. a concotion of Raila and Ruto… Martha Karua and Wavinya Ndeti
Live like you are the status quo..
sometimes speak without thinking that you are also supprised with what is coming out of your mouth
stop thinking out of the box and think without… love without asking for the definition of true love… for depression knows no limits

Why not share?

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