Mental health

To All Those Who Suffer

To all those who suffer tonight
Who feel too small to stand tall
Who measure their worth in teaspoons
Instead of leaps and bounds.
To all those who fear
To take up too much space
They have been told
Their feet's too big
Coz' only a few stand at the top
So they make themselves small
Like tiny specks of dust
And bow down to gavity's pull
In submission
Of their insignificance.
Sometimes the world's too much for them
It tells them things, things to be.
Its loud, the noise
But louder are the screams in their heads
You can't be, you can't be!
So they drown in the silence
The silence of the screams.
And when tears taste like blood
They curl up and wonder
What it would be like, to not be
Would the world feel lighter without me?
A voice tells them
You can't be, silly!
You can't be you!
The voice's my friend
She tells me stories
Of a girl
Who was too less of this, and too much of that
Who wasn't good enough
So she suffered
For her own good.
The ending doesn't seem right
But the voice's my only friend
So I echo, yes, yes!
I can't be me
Guided by my voice
I embark on a quest,
A quest to not be me.
The other voices ask
But then who will you be?
Oh, I will be, anything, nothing really
Just not me, just....not me....oh
I am tired, tired, tired, tired of being me!
I wonder what it would be like
To take a trip to nothingness
To cross the bridge
And hitchhike into oblivion
I wonder if there would be
Peace for breakfast?
Just then, like a sign from fate
A glimmer of steel catches my eye.
I grab it, I see in it
The blue-green of my veins
And draw the last horizon.
Its a slit on my wrist, a line where
Life and death make love.
As I resign myself to sleep
I wonder, if I should scribble a letter of leave?
Too late, says the voice
Sleep child, let it be.
A red calm oozes out of me
I wonder, what would be left behind
When I cease to be?
Oh there would be pain, hurt, anger and shame
There would be loss
There would be blame.
What difference would it make? asks a fading voice
These have always been there:
the pain, the shame, the anger, the blame
Like dots, when connected
They make the human experience in its entirety 
Oh there would be a difference, I breathed, my last,
There would be one less of me.

5 thoughts on “To All Those Who Suffer

  1. The poem so perfectly captures the pain of a depressed soul. The helplessness, anxiety, fear of judgment, and the shame of failure, you described it all bluntly and boldly.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *