Don’t tell me you know
about giving up
until getting out of bed
feels like a battle
you didn’t get to suit up for.
Don’t say you know
about giving up
until you stop giving a shit
whether you wash your hair or not
and it doesn’t bother you to say that.
Don’t pretend you have a clue
until you know right from wrong
and choose wrong just for
the fuck of it, just because
that moment is all that matters
and you’re stuck in it
like consequences didn’t exist.
When you stop talking
to everyone who ever mattered
because you just don’t have
anything worth saying anymore.
When you remember yourself
before you stopped living
and you roll your eyes
like even then you didn’t matter.
When your whole world fell
a long time ago,
nothing phases you now.
You sit there dazed over
at the disasters that don’t stop
and you don’t even care anymore
because you did once
a long time ago
and it didn’t change the weight
that fell on your shoulders, no.
It didn’t change how heavy
the world feels
and now you don’t even look
into that mirror
or god forbid anyone’s eyes.
It feels too ugly.
It hurts too much.
It’s like the truth
muffled into a silent scream
but the echo stopped
when you did.
It all stopped when you did.
No one ever said
keep going…
and when you said it,
You didn’t believe yourself,
because when’s the last time
you came through for yourself?
So you sit there
all by yourself
and you think you belong there.
You think you earned it.
It’s lonely.
But you deserve it, right?
The world keeps spinning
whether you believe in yourself or not.
It’s not going to stop for you.
You won’t even stop for you.
Why should anyone else?
-Stephanie Bennett-Henry
#stephaniebennetthenry
wow…. this just tears at the soul. So raw and dark. Beautiful…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sending you positive thoughts. ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you 💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
Words beautifully crafted to paint as clear and raw a portrait of depression as any I know, addressed to any who do not understand.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
Stephanie Bennett-Henry puts depression into poetry.
LikeLike
All of these words, this post as a whole, is the name for what/who/how I am right now. People ask “how are you?” or “what are you feeling?” or even “what’s up?” and I simply don’t answer because there isn’t an answer. Simple, concise words don’t exist in this language to express or explain any of what’s sitting inside my head and heart. But this, what you wrote here, this is the label, this is the name of it, this is the feeling that doesn’t have a spot on the “feelings chart”. Maybe next time someone asks, which unfortunately isn’t that often anymore given that I never answer, I’ll just hand them a link to this post.
Thanks for speaking my language.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you ❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
I hope you are doing well 💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
heartwrenchingly powerful. Perfectly describes depression. Great work Stephanie
LikeLike