Merry? Christmas

Ghost of Christmas yet to come

Another Christmas, another day. Gifts given, cheer in the air. A sinking empty feeling. A weight in my gut trying to drag me down in the dead of night. I try to escape but the silent moments in-between hours bring it back. So I type about it here. This is my copping mechanism. Chaining each feeling down with words. Showing them to the world like a freak show.  This way I can face a new day.

Black hole


Depression is like a black hole.

Gravity so powerful it won’t let light escape.

A heavy weight on my soul.

Despite this gravity I still use all my might to stand.  


I’ve seen so many fall along the way.

Unseen victims of bullies and apathy

All that is left is for them is to pray,

Pray that someone will show them empathy.


In the day am asleep

In the night I cry

In the day a mindless sheep

At night I ask why


I feel like I have no choice

That my life is not mine

Always looking to free my voice

But it comes out like a whine

Aesop, words weigh us down.


There was once a young boy.

The boy could not speak well of himself.

He often call himself stupid, a loser, or worthless.

Each word added a chain to the boy.

Each chain would weigh on the boy.

As time passed the boys burden grow more and more heavy.

The heavier the boy became, the more he spoke ill of himself.

As boy grow more and more frustrated with his burden, he hated himself more.

The boys burden grow so great that he could no longer move.

Because he could no longer move he deemed his life unimportant.

While only thinking and speaking ill of himself, the boy was crushed by his chains.