Flowers Grow Where Ashes Fell
Judge a book by its cover.
See the rippled front.
The fade of the colors,
The missing corners that show the first page.
Observe the hell out of it.
To not is nothing but refusal.
Neglect and impatience.
We've been told to break our basic instinct and only read the title of a story and see it as the same as the new one next to it.
An equal clarity that both have undergone a mindful conclusion.
Uneducated to notice the simple hesitations change each display cause at a young age we must see all people the "same"
So her pain is equal to his?
Those tears fall off just as theirs does so they equally feel the same?
Society has evolved to show and tell that all emotions fall in the same category that anything more than a simple emotion shown on a facial expression is manipulated and attention seeking fraud.
Well you tell me what depression looks like?
You tell me what constant anxiety projectiles on one's face?
Yet if one is able to hide the effects of such a case of his or hers they are deemed to be overdramatic and mentally unstable and that is only if tested to be true and then you are labeled as
"Socially unacceptable and crazy."
"Weird and bipolar."
Required to take antidepressants in which one side affect literally states
Like you don't have enough already.
Pretending that an hour a week sitting on a couch with a person can completely understand your point of view even though you have no idea which way it's pointing and the drugs only blur the direction it's pulling.
We need to look for the signs.
You don't need to tell me another fairytale
bullshit once upon a time.
It's okay to hurt a little bit,
We aren't always doing fine.
I'm tired of seeing my friends smoke up and get high because that's how they get by.
I'm tired seeing them throw up In the toilet cause they hold it all in the stomach.
And you ask what's wrong and they say "nothing."
I can see it in your eyes.
You're fighting tears,
Just stop it you need to fucking cry.
We've been taught to drink away the feelings and bottle it up like it isn't shit.
And when we see them fall lower we just say
"Get over it."
"Stop hurting man just take another hit."
Numbing all the pain until the next day when you feel like you've been torn to bits.
Aren't you sick of it?
You can't even tell.
We hide our emotions because now we see it as we failed.
A generation expecting to only excel and when someone needs help we just hand them addictions because it communicates with our hell.
Anything you're fighting just ignore it we got pills to sell.
You feel suicidal?
"Nah man you're okay you just don't feel well."
Here's another cigarette.
Smoke away the regret.
Dead set on the thought that a pack will take away that mind set.
Ignorance is bliss,
And I guess we just stopped giving a shit,
That depression isn't fake and no substance will fix it.
We refuse to see that we all go through this some point in our lives.
That despite how amazing things may be we will feel like we are nothing and we won't know why.
Our little voice in our head will turn against us and tell us lies and everything will be against you but you must realize you are it's guide.
You are the light at the end of the tunnel and you must save your life.
You control your mind even If it's of its own.
Cause when you were little you had a trigger of a brain that would tell you what fear is like but you still lunged past it and you never listened and this is nothing different you just have forgotten how to jump.
And it doesn't help when you line up drugs and alcohol it only prolongs the anguish.
And you have lists of reasons why that Nicotine rush and that Marijuana high is so amazing because without it everything is god damn crazy.
Making excuses refusing to tell me the truth.
I have addictions too.
But it's less to do with the need of that repetitive distraction from our reality.
It just keeps us from giving up on our friends and our family.
Something that controls the inner demons at least for a short amount of time and if you aren't addicted to something you are living a lie.
It doesn't always deal with Needles and pipes it can be involved with every day pin point routines,
Picking at the fingers,
Shaking of the knees.
Uncontrollable fidgeting when the stress begins to split the seams.
Having sex constantly just to feel something cause for a couple of minutes you feel good if you're lucky.
We all have something that distracts us when things happen that we cannot ignore as much as we try.
You can't deny the truth that every once in a blue moon you will lose yourself for no damn reason.
And you won't be able to go to the lost and found and pick yourself up it'll take time despite the confusion that you never saw the signs coming.
You just woke up one day. Body heavy yet your insides so light feeling an emptiness you cannot describe.
Knowing this isn't sadness because it would leave at the end of the night.
Yet this shit could last for 6 fucking months.
And I know it isn't fair!
Pushing people away that you love and you can't help it and hurting the ones you know care but it's as if everything you knew flipped upside down and everything is backwards.
You'll look yourself In the mirror and not even recognize the reflection.
And the steps you must take is anything but easy.
Trying to find the old you when you were happy.
Listening to old music and going to old places reminiscing on old memories because you miss the old you.
I miss myself too sometimes.
But it's just us growing up.
And we get stronger someday we will be able to set sail when the waters get rough and when you find that seed of hope I want you to plant it where you hit rock bottom!
Because Flowers Grow Where Ashes Fell.
After every wildfire the forest always regrows.
And when your time has been clocked out you'll have your garden.
Just remember to water the dirt that you got off your shoulders.
Remember where you came from and where you're going.
Depression isn't forever.
Sometimes you must backtrack and find your roots.
Temporary feelings do not have permanent consequences if you choose to stop ignoring that we all lose ourselves.
It's time to acknowledge that handing out numbing agents do nothing but add more stability to the uncertain.
Pour the liquor down the toilet.
Hold your friends.
Tell them you're there.
Don't try to fix them because they aren't broken and don't try to make them feel that they have chosen to hurt.
We all fight our own demons.
Let them fight theirs.