You Are I

I was thinking of leaving this world today. For years I've been struggling. I told my mother I couldn't take the pain I feel anymore, and she told me something. She is depressed too. I have hope.

Sold My Soul When I’d Given Up Everything (Original Title)

The moon sprouted like a tree and took flight on the wings of wind and fallen leaves

The stars are really just the last bit of shine on the rusted chassis of earth perforated by the milky way

The human spirit is a product that is bought and sold

The very heart is just a red statuette

Devoid of every purpose, just art that beats the drum of flesh

Every smile is really just teeth that have bitten and chewed through the womb

This world is a replica

I’m a duplicate, a puppet, a mannequin, a doppelgänger of some far flung hope

My mother's words helped me finish this poem

We are not our body

We are watching this unfold

These thoughts aren’t alive

These thoughts will happen, then they will leave

These thoughts will happen, then they will leave

I will not fight against the fluidity of air dissipating in my lungs

The song playing between my ears

Is off key

But I don’t have anything to hide

The lyrics that play never wrote me

I am not music, I am not poetry

I am watching

I am seeing everything but it is not all me

I am hearing things but they are not my voice

I am shouting things but I have soul

To sell my husk is to have once been whole

To leave my shell for a self unknown

I am the avatar of my spirit

I’m the commodore of my lyrics

I play the game but I’m not a chess piece

I can’t be checkmated don’t f*****g test me

I don’t live on a board of checkered squares

I come barring a burden but I’m willing to share

I don’t see the world as black and white

I am not your pawn I am not your dice

I roll with the rivers, I coast with sky

I flow through the air, I ebb with the tides

I beat like a heart, pulsing life through the fire

I write my own songs, but I’m not in the choir

I am a whole world, of purple and violet

The colour of sound, a colossus, the tyrant

The last thing you’ll see through the throat of your eyelids

The primrose an island, a window your iris

I’m a revolutionary, but not anarchy’s riot

I’ll make the first noise, but leave your breath caught on silence

Author's Note

I was feeling like leaving this world earlier today. For years I've wanted to take my life. I just never got around to doing it. I told my mother how I felt. I have hope. If that's all I have, then that is enough. I am more than a body, more than a husk.

If anyone needs self-help, know that you are not your body. You are not your thoughts, your feelings, your sights, your hearing.

We are watching through a looking glass into a world we are beyond.

We are more than our heart, and our mind is less than our being.

It is a shell.

Realize that, and accept those thoughts, that pain, that hate.

It is not you, you are merely the observer.

You are free.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

You are a child of the universe, a free spirit. I was quite taken by your poetic expression here. I saw my middle grandson in your thoughts. He lives with me and struggles. His life has been difficult, but he has more days now that are good than bad. Your Mother was wise telling you she was depressed. You do have hope. You do have hope. You are unique and precious, don't ever forget that.

Chris

[Robert Trakofler]

okay sin I'm no stranger to depression my friend it has adorned my jacket many times it sheaths a pall upon everything and it is never to be trusted:( It to this day takes a constant vigilance to keep at bay and I agree with you writing it down does take away its power so please keep writing. Believe me when I tell you I have many times been in that place of wanting to end the pain. That pain is a silent shriek that taps upon your brow telling you this isn't how its supposed to be we live in a world that in many ways is truly incongruous to our natures and in doing so some of us have a harder time than others over time that can be very overwhelming and seem to be insurmountable. But BUT BUTTTTT these trials tho they may be harder for you will be extraordinary achievements you will be able to hang your hat upon them like few others can and your eyes will see with a vision that few others will ever have. So in your grips of despair remember that you are not alone and many others have walked your path to a brilliant end and take solace in there company! I like what your mother said in this she is a wise lady!

[R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)]

You're right, the pain is like a medal I wear on my heart. A badge of honour that gave me the reason to write. I wrote the whole poem, but the words that mother told me shaped most of the second half of the poem, it was her ideology. I will always have something through this pain. It is not all bad, it is a gift. If I can bare it, then I'm happy to have it. Thank you for being there for me. :)