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sylvies-swamp:

depression

You know that feeling? The overwhelming, heart rendering wave of sadness, loss and regret that takes your legs away and reminds you of all the good in life that you destroyed, that nothing will ever be so good again, that this bitter taste is of your own making and that it will haunt you for all the days that are given you to endure? That feeling that comes from the knowledge that you could have put it all right with one different choice, a few different words? That feeling that always seems to hit you just about the time you think you might be about to pull yourself back up onto a shaky platform of a normal life? That feeling that makes you really not want to feel any pain, any more, and just stop?
Please brain, make it stop.

Night falls.
Sleep beckons.
In the utter darkness of this room three hearts beat.
The soft breathing and precious rustling around me speak of the two peaceful souls that are at rest in their beds. I wish to join them at peace, but the fourth heart beat of this quartet strums its tune 4000 miles away tonight; tonight the distance that has grown between us seems truly measured, the physical miles match the unbridgeable chasm I carved into our lives, and though I know I can never now cross that divide, I know too that my soul will never leave the edge of the cliff in the faint hope that a route across may one day appear from the dreadful mists between us.
While you are so far away, and when you are once more near, the hearts in this room will always beat for you.
And now to sleep, perchance to dream of happier times than these

If I curl up in a ball and hide from everything in a corner for a day or two, or a year, perhaps I could make a success of that. ‘Cos I’m fuck all use for anything else.

If I curl up in a ball and hide from everything in a corner for a day or two, or a year, perhaps I could make a success of that. ‘Cos I’m fuck all use for anything else.

i
can’t
put
into
words
how
much
i
miss
you

i just know there’s a soul sized hole in my life.


i’m clinging to the charred embers of the life i burnt away, wishing i never lit the match, knowing that there’s nothing really left now but wisps of ash. 


and life is now so empty and cold.

how are you?

alright.

how’s work at the minute?

alright.

how was your day?

alright.

how did you sleep?

alright.

are you sure you’re ok?

yeah, i’m alright. just a bit tired.

family, friend, colleagues, world - i can’t say it to you in person I’m sorry; i’m incapable of facing you hearing me say it, but I’m not alright. when i say i’m alright, alright means i’m a mess, i’m numb, i feel lost, i’m screaming inside. alright is all i can think to say.

please don’t stop asking because one day, i hope, i’ll be able to say i’m alright and mean it.


paradise lost


your hands might have been sore, or cold; but we used to hold hands. and it was everything. 
i’ll never hold your hand again. it makes me weep.

paradise lost

your hands might have been sore, or cold; but we used to hold hands. and it was everything.
i’ll never hold your hand again. it makes me weep.