Why do I have a name that does not speak to me?

Why do I have a Friend who might not meet with me?

Why do I have these hands that do not help

These people that injuriously but furiously have no reason to be

Living? But they are, and that's what's confusing me

Why do I have a talent that does not please

My parents and friends who say I'm too in sync

With every single thought that runs through my mind?

Why do I know these people that make fun of my poetry?

And say that I'm writing a love letter to the girl of my dreams?

When that is not true, because I do not sleep

So how the hell would a girl be in my dreams?

Why do people say I'm quiet when I'm actually noisy?

"Jed, you're so calm," but I listen to these voices

That influence my reflex mechanism and my responses?

The same voices that taught me how to make choices?

Why do I have this condition

That doctors call "clinical depression"?

Dad says it's spiritual

But I beg to differ

Because if my depression is spiritual

Does that make me an unbeliever?

Why does this poem sound so familiar?

I feel like I'm questioning myself

Trying to sound like a preacher?

But I'm not worthy to preach

I guess it's quite obvious

But if you happened to believe I was

Does that make you oblivious?

We're an odd bunch of friends

With particular interests and different ends

Talking and laughing about the bends

The ups and downs of life that condescend

Our dreams to be professionals and "in-the-know"

A community we've built that's powered by those

That taught us anything and everything we know

So we can harness that knowledge and make it our own

But we're surprisingly awkward in everyday physical conversations

When we meet - we stand like statues at different locations

We laugh at other people, not at our own proclamations

And then we go home and chat in virtual conversations

It's hard enough knowing that we can never truly speak

And we kill ourselves constantly trying to be meek

To have the courage to walk up to someone, like me

And just say, "Hey, Jedidiah, long time no see."

Have you ever been scared?

Scared of every second

That you spend living and breathing

Scared of every minute

That keeps you thinking and singing

Scared of every hour

That passes you by in a rhythm

Scared of everyday

That you dread in the morning

Have you ever been scared of every single person

That you know and love?

Have you ever wondered if there really is

"Someone up above"?

Have you imagined every dying

And everyone saw

But they all decided to ignore it

So you were instantly forgotten?

Have you ever been afraid of the

Bottomless, empty dark?

Not because it's so scary

But just because it's so dark?

That when you sit inside of it

It kills your soul

And swallows your heart?

Have you ever loved someone to the point you were sick

And if anything ever happened to them

You would break into bits?

Or have you ever hated someone to the point you were mad

And if they ever showed their faces

You'd be incredibly sad?

I don't know if you can understand

What I'm getting at, but

I hope you can hear when I'm speaking

I'm not asking for help

I'm crying to breathe and

Asking you to leave me alone with my thoughts

Have you ever been scared

Of everyone knowing your problems?

And trying to tell you that it's alright

That it's normal to be depressed

That it's normal to want to die?

Have you ever hated when

They call you disabled

When you voice out your issues

And every one of your fears

And you just wish that these people

Had listening ears?

Have you ever wanted so badly to be loved

That you tried to run away

But you were scared they'd never find you

So you stayed anyway?

Have you ever been told that you'll never be enough

By the ones who call themselves "parents"

And they make you give up

All of your God-given talents?

Or have you ever just wanted to be introspective

And make them see things from your perspective?

That's enough questions without answers

And that's enough answers without questions

I'm not trying to be negative

I'm trying to make you see

This is not another narrative

This is me.

They sit in silence, their heads hung low

As the people walk, making a nasty row

Yelling at them calling them ugly toads

Taking their money and spilling it on the road

They asked for nothing, just someone to behold

And house their bodies, empty as they were broke

To feed their stomachs, and buy them nice clothes

Dirty-looking, torn clothing, they sit on the road

A group of children, all pale and skinny-boned

Rejected by their parents, now living on their own

Begging for alms, from the rich and snobby folks

That walks confidently in their million-dollar robes on this same road

Three to seven orphans, all crowded in a row

Lighting newspapers for fire, clearly cold

They shiver in the snow, dreaming of home

And new opportunities on this dusty Victorian London road.

Crows caw silently, through the dimly lit windows in the hall

I'm sitting in a crossed-legged position; my back is to the wall

My hands are legs bleed profusely as I strain my voice to call

For help to come and break the door that led me to my fall

Breathing hoarsely, still alive, I try to recollect

The memories I have of those that praised my intellect

I live in fear of all of them that told me to reflect

Upon my mistakes in the past that I try so hard to deflect

She stands alone in the burning abyss, bleeding to her knees

I call her name, she doesn't answer, but I can hear her weep

About the people that she lost; the ones who couldn't see

Her internal pain; she's running insane; and then she looks at me

I hear her breathing a little too loudly; a sight too scary to see

She walks forward; taking her time; as she trudges up to me

The flames are burning; the boards are creaking; as she creeps slowly

Suddenly the floor gives way and she falls into the sea

I watch her as she drowns in water; holding on to her regrets

Too selfish to just let them go; and still remains depressed

I lay back down and wake up in bed; unexplainably stressed

About the vision I just witnessed

About the girl that was obsessed

With being sad and lonely; never smiling once

She kept her sorrow within herself; not sharing with anyone

She died in water; her weight too heavy for one

To carry through this life for years; thinking that it's fun

To remain depressed and uncontrollably stressed

About the trauma she hoards

Now this is a lesson to all who smile but secretly are filled with sorrow

Find someone trustworthy to talk to you so you might survive tomorrow

For our Heavenly Father says in His Word, "I will take away your sorrow

And fill you with My Spirit so you are never hollow."

I have a circus in my head that makes me want to scream

I see a ringleader who tells me what I want to be

I have a voice inside my head that makes me want to bleed

I have a friend who keeps telling me that I should just be me

I have a criminal attraction to these false beliefs

I have a tendency to sin and always listening

I have a strange desire to eat less and barely sleep

I own a dirty journal where I write my memories

I'm obsessed when I get uncontrollably depressed

I'm depressed when I'm exposed to uncontrollable stress

I'm stressed when I hear life-questioning threats

I have threats that I've given to all my regrets

I try to piece back together my already fractured life

Try to be the person they want and indirectly spite

Try to live up to expectations; even though they're too high

I need to be happy; I can't keep living this life.

People swarm in and out with their faces in screens

Not casting a glance; too obsessed with the memes

That drop on Instagram and whatever media app

It takes their attention away with a snap

I live in this sea of endless laughing and texting

Where people spend all their time commenting instead of resting

About all the selfies that pop up in the morning

You know what I did last night? I had to deal with your snoring

I'm not saying that I'm not also addicted to it

The dim lights of the phones that make the night look lit

But I hate avoidance, when you shove me away

While talking to your friend in London for the whole day

You spend your time training those long, nimble fingers

To comment kissy-face emojis on pics of your favorite singers

You call it showing support; I call it revolting

Looks like this endless cycle is never halting

I feel so misplaced; it's actually frightening

Maybe I'll get an iPhone: You know, to counter the sound of the typing.

You say that I'm pretty, I've heard it all before

Your two intercrossed fingers; "How vile and impure!"

You tell me I'm funny; laughter's the cure

But it's not a joke when you're insecure

About what people say about your character

Judging you fatally like well-dressed barristers

It's hard to feel wanted, they make it seem impossible

To climb the social ladder, when that is very possible

Because the ladder is an illusion; a careful way of deception

To capture the self-haters and change their perception

And make them feel guilty for not wanting directions

From the rich and the popular on their strong inception

Manipulating personality at a level so unattainable

That the laws of the world find its so agreeable

To use us as objects; "Why, this is unbelievable!"

They've trapped us in too deep

But our rebellion is inevitable.

There's a boy in the mirror with doe for eyes

A smile so bright it forms the skies

He looks at me cheerfully and what a surprise:-

It's me when I show my true nature outside

He's successful in missions, a mentor to many

Head full of dreams; I barely have any

With millions of friends; his love is a-plenty

But I can't help but I feel like he's not ready

For the world outside, which is anything but safe

He's safer inside me, where no one can take

His dreams and his hopes away from his brain

And put him on a path that will lead him astray

No, he's better forgotten, laid in the ground

Next to my self-hatred and the thoughts all around

Deep in my heart; away from the sounds

Of the angry people;

They've come for another round.

I wake up in the morning, my head aching profusely

The sun filters into my room, the rays so confusing

The light is beautiful, and yes, I can't stop refusing

The beauty of God shown through this beautiful soothing

Moving of the Sun.