Stolen Hope

This one is dedicated to one too young to have left us. I’m also dedicating it to her family, and anyone else out there who either suffers from depression or knows someone who suffers from depression.

fog_of_depression

Life is so fresh
And we try to seize every day
But some of us just can’t.
Sometimes it’s just overwhelming.
We’re lost in this … fog and we can’t get through.
We don’t see that pit we’re about to fall into,
Where we tumble into the oh-so-familiar abyss.

But we see a light up there.
We climb out … once more into the fog.
We try again.

stumbled-into-the-pit

 

Some of us just get tired of trying.
Some kind of thief steals our hope and we no longer see the light.
Everyone has their own thief.
You’ll meet him if you ever fall so far into the abyss

rock-bottom

You truly hit bottom.
He gets in your head in that dark place and finds a way
To steal that last bit of hope,
Leaving you no strength to climb out again.
All you have are your choices – the rest of your life at rock bottom,
Or some method your thief left behind to end the pain.
If you’re lucky, you remembered you brought your phone with you.
Most of the time, people don’t remember.

The younger you are, the more vulnerable you feel.
You may have turned your phone off.

Baby girl, you were so young.
I can’t ask you why you never talked. I’ve been there.
I can’t ask the gods “why”, either.
The gods died last night when they let this happen.

national_suicide-300x225

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~ by Duch on February 2, 2017.

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