Unsolicited opinions on medication.

Why is that when you’re on anti-depressants and you’re talking to someone about it, it’s so common for people to say,
‘I’m not a fan, but if you need them then take them.’

Why do they feel it necessary and important to let you know they’re not a fan? Would they do that for any other medication?

‘Oh you’re on a heart meds? I’m not a fan, but if you need to take them, take them.’

Imagine if someone said that?

Wouldn’t that be a stupid thing to say? ‘I’m not a fan’ not a fan? Of what? heart meds? that keep someone alive?


Yet no one blinks an eye when people say this about anti-depressants, in fact it seems to me it’s encouraged.

It never ends

I’m too small
to contain this
Shits about to blow
I tried to tell you this
but I fail to communicate
when all this shit accumulates
and each piece never goes away
so I’ll be stuck with this every day
and then more on top
It’s just the way
my brain is wired
Don’t know why
all these feelings that ebb and flow
they’re all painful
no respite
empty full
nothing and everything
I want a lobotomy
so tired
this is the trend
in my brain and it won’t end

PAIN

The pain accelerates
no stepping back, no brakes
heart and lungs deflate
no words can translate
this suffering and hate
it’s just inside
aggravate
agitate

I’ve had these wounds so long
They’re antiquated
so I keep it all bottled up
it’s the same old, same old
and I know what comes
The accusations are sung
‘You don’t wanna try’
‘you can’t let go’

I can’t let go
I don’t know
Any other feeling
but this gaping fucking hole
deep inside of me
the abyss swallowed me
long ago
there was never anything
that could be left of me
cause I was never ever whole

Carpenters in a crumbling house NaPoWriMo poem 18

An apocalypse reflected on our faces.
Beads of sweat dripping down
Or are they tears we haven’t wept
Yet?

We glow like cigarettes
being smoked down to the last
Sharpening our bayonets

Fighting for remnants of the past

An orange glow
Lit us up
No time to turn on back.

We are carpenters in a crumbling house.





For full transparency the title and last line is inspired by a reply to a post on Quora

Darkness NaPoWriMo poem 17

These feelings can’t be contained
in a sustained note
Or a melody you wrote
The music doesn’t filter them
like they were meant to
Like you say, maybe I hold on too tight
to this darkness inside.

People say that darkness is good
Because you can see light
but I guess I must be blind.
I’m always trying to empty
this hollow space of expanded nothing
But it’s like it goes too deep
and has become the roots within

I’m constantly deflated
while this depression bloats