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I can't write. I just can't.
I can't spurt poetry on the go. Nor can I create illusions of new worlds with words.

I can't create. My womb is barren and my heart empty.
I can't sculpt a greek god. Nor can I fall create pretty pieces to showcase.

I can't start. I see myself as a failure; everything I touch turns to dust.
I'm afraid of beginning something beautiful. I'm afraid of it's falling to pieces.

I'm not self sufficient. I can't care for my family, nor let my mother rest.
I don't have anything to offer. Nor am I capable of anything new.


In times like these, when it gets dark, my appetite for self destruction whets.
It gets lonely and the screams in my head overwhelm.
I hear them loud and clear and they taunt me on my worthlessness.
I hear them tell me to call it a day. They insist on the end all the time.


I can love. I can love truly and deeply.
I can love enough to get scarred. I can pick up my broken pieces and love again.

I can be. I can hold on to you tight till you learn to cry it all out.
I can absorb that energy and set you free. I can hold you in, completely.

I can empathise. I live in the darkest corners, I know these alleys.
I can help you through it, I can cry with you. I can laugh with you.

I can exist. I can stand tall and look in the mirror and say 'not today'.
The warmth of my blood oozing is proof of me living.

In times like these, when it gets dark, I count my scars - one by one,
I feel the texture of healing, the desire to exist overwhelms.
I may feel worthless in my head, but my heart beats a song of survival.
I can't hear the screams and wails over my frail yet loud beating heart.

I can't love myself enough yet, but I suppose-
I can try to survive for another day.


Notes:
Depression. Suicide calls. Feelings of worthlessness. Warning signs

Editors notes:
I battle mild (if you may call it) clinical depression. I know coz I've seen the warning signs. I haven't seeked help yet simply because I haven't approached a severe level of self destruction. I've let a few people know I may be damaged goods but the rest is undercontrol. The heaviness of life and the umpteen number of responsibilities unfairly dumped on my shoulders seems to aggravate it more, simply coz I can't seem to meet them. However, I thank GOD, my Father, for little mercies here and there.

If you know someone who suffers, never hestitate to let them know that they are loved and are important. They may be too 'emo' or egoistic but it most cases, they shut life out as to avoid severing bonds when they call it quits. 

If you suffer from depression, let's talk. I'm happy to help, the little I can. We're in the same sea, might as well show some love. :)

Till next time.

p.s. Encourage feedback on langiage, literature or the subject.