Some days I just want you to lay me on your

bed of lies,

brush my hair out of my face,

kiss my eyes lids and sing a song so sweet even

your grandmother is speechless.

I want you to hold my hand quietly and whisper

that everything will be okay.

That what we have been fighting for,

for the last 17 years has been worth it.

That the oxygen in my lungs is just as much

validation to me then as if my father were to

finally say I am good enough.

I am trying to remember I’m human.

I want to hear the voices die out,

let the lights dim,

and watch us be the last words you utter as we

fade into nothingness.

Because everything from then and everything

from now has always been just enough for

forever.

- Love always, M.i

All we do is sit in silence.

I’m waiting for you to say something for once.

This is a broken promise with no end.

You really fucked me up.

-Love Always M.i

Living with depression... is chaotic

My life is built in black and white

And every day is the same sad song.

Living with depression, is, a burden

Your constantly trying to exist as something

you aren’t.

Sit up straight,

Smile and seem inviting,

But don’t let them see the gleam in your eyes

that may just be a bit to over whelming for

them.

Living with depression, is belittling .

With every waking breath I’m trying to push

myself into this box you created,

I’m trying to help you see that I’m not

depressed,

that I don’t need these appointments or

medications.

Living with depression means,

being the friend that no one wants around

because you might just be a little to sad.

It’s feeling bad for feeling so upset

Not knowing why or how to stop it.

It’s An experience,

Living with depression was as messy,

It has been trips to the hospital, fighting for my

Future.

It was wishing and praying that maybe one day

I would be okay.

It’s learning to stand on your own two feet,

Trying to figure yourself out,

not knowing who you were before this,

and not knowing who you’ll be at the end of this.

Living with depression has been terrifying... but

most importantly, I’m living.

-love always, M.i

I like to lay in bed and stare at the roof.

To feel the sheets under me, my skin against the soft fabric and my head rested softly on my pillow.

It smells like home, it feels like home.

The way my blanket lays upon me, slowly but surely suffocating me.

It’s the wall to my reality,

And when demons come from the closet, their voices loud, with lanky limbs that clatter, they scream.

It scares me, so I hide.

Taking in the feeling of fabric all around me.

I haven’t felt this safe since I was in the womb.

My ears ring out, I can’t tell if it’s their screams, or mine

All I know is the voices sound in pain.

They want safety.

They coax you out from hiding.

Their voices soft like your mothers when she used to sing to you.

So you look, hopeful of that voice that promise of safety

But it’s nothing,

Just the demons.

Voices soft still, filling you with empty promises and making you believe.

Maybe this is home,

Maybe this is clarity,

Maybe this is it.

- Love always, M.i