Lost in Depression 

I try so hard to do everything right

I try so hard to survive

But it seems like I can never win with life


What I do today

Getting out of bed

Going to classes

Trying to digest

The rules to survive


Celebrate every little victory

For what?

Today is a forgotten memory

Today is the repeating beat of an elegy

The success of today

Soon becomes the dust of tomorrow


Two years of therapy

No guarantee of recovery

I am dying every day

Again and again

You said you’d help me

But you won’t and you can’t

For all you can say is words

For all you can do is actions that distract


end of the day

I’m still suffering alone

Drowning and dying

Chained to the walls with the monster in me

I’m afraid that you only see

the monster inside me

Sometimes I too believe

I am the beast that deceives





How much more does this life ask of me

As if every single breath isn’t already an agony

How much more do I have to do

To live right

When rules are written plain in sight




My body is drowning

My lungs are filled with swallowed words

This body is burning

I feel anguish

When all I want to do is love




I smile at you

I make jokes with you


I wear makeup

So the dark circles around my eyes

won’t be noticed

So the evidence of pain on my face

Won’t be brought up

So the sleepless nights

Or nightmares

Or panic attacks

Can all be concealed by a mask


I laugh

So you think I’m normal

Or perfect

Or perhaps proper




I dress well

Like my parents taught me


I hide behind my attire

So you can’t see me




I hide in my bed

Counting from one to ten

And from ten to one

Waiting for today to go by

I just want today to go by


I hide

I am used to hiding and waiting

After all, that’s what I do best




I say the right things at the right time

I eat the right things at the right time

I do the right things at the right time

Trying to control my life

As if doing so would make things right


Or perhaps just trying not to fail or bail again

Since society has a problem with failures and losers


Or perhaps it was my dad’s voice in my head

Warning me not to disappoint him again




When you do something over and over again

It loses its meaning

I wake up and go to bed and wake up and go to bed


I feel like a zombie

No meaning in repeating

I try and I fail and I try again and fail again

What’s the point in trying

If I am doomed to lose the race




You say I am lucky

And I know I have been

But right now I’m dying in slow motion

and there’s no room for appreciation

when I am murdering myself instinctively




you ask about my past

you ask what’s on my mind

penny for a thought

I’m scared of telling you the truth

Because then you would dread me too




I say I’m tired

I tell you I am drained

But you don’t listen

You nod like you understand

But can you even stand straight

If you were in my shoes




How much more do I have to do

To survive

What meaning does there lie

If death is not the solution




How many times do I have to repeat

Just how much I am drowning

How many secrets do I have to keep

Before I start to feel better

If I will ever feel better

And what’s the meaning in getting better

If death is still waiting for me



1246 days

of sobriety


3 years

4 months

4 weeks



The drunk version of me

Erased by memory

The crazy days

The erotic encounters

All seem so blurred

Lost in history


Buried deep in the dirt

Along with my lonely tears

The hearts I’ve broken

Friends who fled away

The relationships that faded

The sins I committed

People I lost faith in

All buried deep in the dirt


Bottles after bottles of alcohol

Demeanor of self-deception

Trusting that alcohol was alleviation

And yet left alone

with empty bottles

Empty as I was

Piled up like my troubles

Taking up all the spaces

Mocking my last sanity


Whiskey tasted like self-love

The next morning it reeked agony from my inside

the smell lingered

for 3 years

4 months

4 weeks

the mistakes I’ve made

all buried deep in the dirt

yet always there as a reminder


1246 days


sobriety enables me to see

all the misery

clear and fair

what I suffer

How I suffer

the pain is greater when I am sober

I live through the sadness I try so hard to ignore


the past never truly disappeared

always there as a mockery

reminding me of all the failures

the worst version of me I have ever been


choosing recovery

but trapped in memory lane

the illusion of how whiskey can cure

seems so tempting

my mental disease

all relied on it


1246 days


every today

is followed by a struggling yesterday

every hopeful tomorrow

is constructed by a skeptical today


3 years

4 months

4 weeks

of recovery


recovery glows flowers

adorning the grave I dug for myself

white and yellow flowers

on the dirt I buried my history

white as I my heart is now pure

yellow as the sun spreads hope


Letter to Self: I Know

Hey, there

Don’t dwell on your sadness

I know it’s not easy

The sadness is always there

It is your personal bully

I know it’s confusing

about the nature of it

or the cause of this endless torture


I know you are sad

even when you are not

I know you are smiling

when you are bleeding inside



I know you believe

you don’t deserve to be happy

so much

that you reject all the possibilities


I know you are scared

of all the uncertainties

That’s why you try so hard

to find meaning in all things

That’s why you want answers

To your bewilderedness

about everything in this society

Or maybe just an answer to

that little monster that lives inside you


I know you don’t want to be

a zombie again

I know there’s no more time to waste

in your life


I know you are still searching

for a place you can call home

a home that’s yours to own

and yours only


I know you are trying so hard

to survive

I know you are forcing yourself

to be strong

Because you are convinced

that’s the only choice left

I know you don’t want to be vulnerable

I know you don’t want to feel the hurt again


I know that I love you

Even when I don’t

Depression Is

You talk about it

Like it’s something casual

There’s nothing casual about it


Depression is not casual

It is not just being troubled

It is not a cold

Which you can recover from in days


Depression is an assassin

Depression is the shadow that follows behind

Depression is the dark hole that consumes

Depression is me


Depression is the twisted state of mind

It is knowing that there’s something not right

But don’t know what it is

Don’t know how to fix it

Utterly clueless


It is being completely blind

Searching in darkness

Everything I touch makes me bleed


It is drowning in my own tears

Until I lose the ability to cry

To feel sadness

Or anything at all

Until numbness

is the only thing remains


Depression is the defense mechanism

A bubble that claims to keep me safe

As long as I stay in it

And believe in the projections it shows


Depression is something I keep in my pocket

Always with me

Wherever I am

Whomever I’m with

It tells me how to act

And not to take it out

So others won’t acknowledge


It is a tenant that checks in

Out of the blue

And my body is the landlord

It brings its friends over


Panic attacks

They party all night

Playing horror movies

I toss and turn

Can’t fall asleep for nights


Depression stays in my body

It is trying to take over

It gives me a mask

Ask me to wear it

So no one can see

While every cell in me

Is turning into depression


It is the bad neighbor

Drilling the walls

Filling my room with lousy noises

And yet filing complaints against me


Depression is not casual

Depression is the paralyzing negativity

It is transparent yet so powerful

It keeps me in bed

Everyone away


Depression makes sure that I am alone

So it can fulfil its duty

The task of an assassin


Depression is choosing recovery

over and over again

failing and succeeding and failing again

it is a loophole in time

repeating everything every time


it is hiding the beauty in life

says the blue sky is grey

or the loving friends don’t care

or universe has abandoned me

or I belong to the wrong galaxy



Is the devil with a thousand tricks

It is the opposite of life

It is not having a voice

Or a choice


Depression is many things

It is definitely not

Not casual

Like how you talk about it

For how Many Times

For how many times

we sob in the dark




For how many times

we believe in the person

Who claimed to help

Yet keeps us in suspense

Because they have their own problems too


For how many times

We wait to be saved

Until we are tired of waiting

And we only fall deeper

Still left alone


For how many times

we tell ourselves

everything will be okay

When we feel like a wreckage


For how many times

we drag our dead bodies along the way

Just so we can see the light at the end of the tunnel


For how many times

we look fear in the eyes

And cry but never give up


For how many times

we are melting down inside

But still keeping a smile on the outside


For how many times

We betray our heart

Just so we can get a nod

from someone else


For how many times

our tongues deceive our soul

Until we are lost in all the lies


For how many times

we seek death for relief

Yet see the sins we commit


For how many times

we punish ourselves

for the mistakes we made in the past

And hate ourselves for it


For how many times

We forget that we

Are a work in progress


For how many times

we do something over and over again

Until it loses its meaning


For how many times

we say I love you


Until it becomes an empty promise


For how many times

we break others’ heart

Just so we can protect our own


For how many times

we wail in the shower

Hide in the closet

Cry our lungs out

And come out wearing a mask


For how many times

we hide and hide and hide

Until we disappear

Until the world forgets about us

Until the universe has decided to stop torturing us


For how many times

God closed down one window

And forgets about us


For how many times

we pick up the shattered pieces of yesterday

And try to glue them back together

In vain


For how many times

we feel like we don’t belong

Like a burden



For how many times

the only thing we fear

Is life itself


Panic Attack

I’m shaking

My visions blurred

Something’s stuck in my chest

I can’t breathe

smothered by air


I swallowed the tablet

Waiting in panic

Thirty more minutes

Then I should feel normal again


Everything has a noise now

My heartbeat is too loud

It is pounding too hard

I may just be shattered

And no one would notice


I am sitting here like a stone

I look normal

Yet every cell I have

Is deteriorating so drastically

I can hear them dying

I can hear them screaming for help


I can’t move my limbs

They are not mine now

I can see them

But they are so distant


I can hear my teeth clicking

So loudly in my head

Like a ticking bomb

I feel like it’s going to explode


I think I’m about to die

There’s no air in my lungs

My tongue is dry

My thoughts all tangled

They are shouting at me

Yelling and blaming


My body can’t take it

I may just be dying

I can’t cope with this

Ten more minutes

Until the tablet fulfils its duty


Every muscle I have is on guard

They know I am about to go

My body is rejecting my soul

They want it out

Ten minutes are too long


I am about to collapse

And nobody would notice

This is the end

Dying as a stone

Without a soul


Five more minutes

Goodbye, all

I don’t know what I’m fighting for

Set free my soul

so my body can rest