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An Apology For My Apologies

I’m not proud of the things I have done
Dropping verse like a hit and run
Settling scores by the inch of my tongue
Belittling others cuz they’re having more fun

I’m not proud of calling them names
Dousing the fuel, igniting the flames
Keeping him down and shackled in chains
Changing the rules without knowing the games

With tiny feet I trample the heavens
But take regrets and multiply by seven
I caused you pain and my mouth was my weapon
I made you cry in multiple sessions

I am sorry I pushed you all away
For the trouble I caused and the endless heartache
For the knife I inserted with every mistake
For tossing stones instead of embrace

I don’t expect you to forgive me
I just want you to know it made me feel empty
And that pound of weight has turned into twenty
And heavier now is this ink that is leaking

I need you to know I feel humiliated
And maybe this apology has been long-awaited?
Maybe none of us are where we are fated?
Maybe tomorrow our hands are less weighted?

My door is always open and you are welcome here
Coming together is what I wanted, not to disappear
I’ve been looking for forgiveness and checking in my rear
And I’m hoping maybe silence is more than you all can endear

© Delia Ross. 2020

So, I’m sorry. It may not mean much. It may not help at all. But, I am completely humiliated by my actions and accusations of other bloggers, and even the comments I have left here or on Instagram. Please forgive me if you can. My head and heart really were confused, and my actions did not match my character. My behavior is\was deplorable. I’m sorry I hurt you.

Regrets eek (self circa 2019)

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Rope

I never know he’s watching,
But, I’m hoping,
I’m hoping on, the rope that’s got me choking
And tighter yet, the courage it takes coping
When hanging from, the thread he strung, starts croaking
And tighter do my hands become from groping
Regrets like knots, have kept love from corroding
Swaying bound, his eyes slowly approaching
Enlightenment may be found with both eyes opened

© Delia Ross. 2020

If you dig this poem, please hit the “like” button so I know! If my poem moved you, drop me a comment below, I love hearing from you!

If you dig my writing, you can help support my art by subscribing to my Patreon here: https://www.patreon.com/poeeternal

Keep up with me on Instagram here: https://www.instagram.com/poeeternal/

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Listen to me on Tuners Radio under my pen POEETERNAL at: https://tuners.io/users/POEETERNAL

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Skin

These sharks go into frenzy
With my patience running thin
Predators come to surface
From places made of sin

These waters are infested
And there’s more that’s creeping in
These lessons make me nervous
I have a right to shed my skin

© Delia Ross. 2020

I wish I could express my sexuality how I wanted, without the flood of sexual harassment that swarms in.

I wish I could dress how I wanted, without the flood of sexual harassment that comes in.

I wish I could go to the beach or the club, without the fear of being raped or having unwanted hands grab my body.

I wish I could dress sexy and go out and not be catcalled.

I wish dudes wouldn’t send me a play-by-play of how they’re masturbating.

I wish dudes wouldn’t ask me for nudes.

I wish I could express my sexuality without being reduced to simply a sex object.

Eh, but I guess I “asked for it”…

Posted on by poeeternal · 2 Comments

Worthless

What am I but a dollar for his bank
What am I but nickel and copper
Spit on me and clean me up
A penny is not a dollar

What am I but quarter and migraine
Polished silver for the poor
Wish on me, then toss me over
The rich horde it all but still want more

© Delia Ross. 2019

If you like my writing, please consider subscribing to my new Patreon here (please & thank you): https://www.patreon.com/poeeternal

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Last

Ain’t no use standing on the ledge
Ain’t no use living on the edge
Ain’t no use deciding what went wrong
Ain’t no use crying all night long
Ain’t no use denying what was said
Ain’t no use pretending that we’re dead

Seven days, seven broken seals
Seven bottles, seven ways to feel
Seven hands but never any deals
So many hours, nothing helps to heal
Unanswered prayers left me where I kneel
So many arrows but none of them have the kill

Prayers just to get me through the pain
I’d give it all up for just another day
Darkness now engulfs my only view
I can’t accept that our time is through
Throw my troubles far into the past
Give myself a break from coming last

© Delia Ross. 2019

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Seeds of Descent

Love is a lost art
Still I built a special ark
Made from words within my heart
To help you through your dark

(Does it mean anything?)

Sailing through crosses and curses
Sending prayers of ‘is it worth it’
Lingering in places God deserted
Standing stagnant near roads diverted

(Your words sting, they numb my wing)

Leaving hints and traces of echoes
Chained to someone I can’t let go
Drowning in cycles of these lows
Agony abundant where love grows

(I am sinking)

© Delia Ross. 2019

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My Sunday, how’s yours going?

I woke up to my Sunday morning with my ride having been damaged by a heinous, criminal act. I do not have the money to repair it. IF ANYONE CAN HELP, PLEASE HELP. DEPRESSION AWARENESS! SUICIDE AWARENESS. I CAN’T TAKE MUCH MORE. If anyone is capable or caring enough to help, please, I’m at the end of my rope.

Broken window, shattered soul, this is hell, don’t you know
Sunday blues *sigh*
Nothing stolen, strictly spite
$275 in repair costs I do not have and cannot drive until it is fixed.

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Barely Coping

Forward calls, voicemail full
Store away the wings, ride the bull
Expose the mask, clean the wool
Give sheeple a tug, see if heart can pull

Cotton balls or iron spoons
Pay for love through blackened rooms
Seen as gain but more cartoons
Heard them crying over popped balloons

Walk away again, bury my hope
You gave him love, he gave you rope
Sinful tongue must clean with soap
Life just means I cannot cope

Sunday here, someday gone
Won’t even bother writing a Dear John…
Might stick around and watch his dawn
But he took me down like a baby fawn

He set the bar low but it is nonexistent
Perhaps it is there and I only missed it
If it’s a girl with missing panties, he will crawl persistent
If it’s an angel with a heartbeat, he will keep his distance

© Delia Ross. 2019

“Still looking for someone
Who was around
Barely coping
Now I hate myself
Wish I’d die” (-)

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Eagle

I am like an eagle
I’m trying to unplug sheeple
I am raising flags on evil
Corporations are not people

They won’t understand
I’m fighting for their life
I’ve fighted for their rights
I’m shining all the lights

BIG PHARMA IS A CANCER
DO YOU NEED ANOTHER ANSWER
PILLS ARE JUST AN ANCHOR
THEY’LL SEND YOU TO A CHAMBER

© Delia Ross. 2019

Another death, big pharm to blame, I’M ANGRY!!!!!

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Lu Part 999 (We dream backwards)

I’ve been looking forward to your arrival
He sat me next to a satanic bible
I am your favorite disciple
In fact, I would say you are my idol
Without any denial
(Lu creeped down my spinal)

The number of the beast is triple nine
I tried to cleanse you but you missed the deadline
I tried to warn you with written rhyme
The devil knows I’m out of time
He also knows I am divine
And in my presence he built a shrine

The feeling mutual, no
Obsession yes, go
Drop the curtain, end the show
My mind is broke from feeling low
Is there any other my soul can bestow
It is looking as if the devil is my only beau

Why am I even here?
I think about him and you appear
Please can you disappear
You turned the world over to fear
And it’s not enough you need me too, dear
Well come a little closer, I’ll insert the spear

This is why I love you, Lu replied
And love is where the conversation died
This is where my step took a longer stride
I swear the devil sat down and cried
My wings expand, I left with pride
The devil will never be by my side

© Delia Ross. 2019

Fighting personal demons currently and it feels good to vent via rhyme. Therapeutic. Yes. With that said, we dream backwards, and the number of the beast arrived via dream, so why do we promote it as 666 still? Why am I the ONLY ONE who can see things as they really are? This shite keeps me up at night…

Unrequited love sucks tho. I am never loving again… Just don’t use the word love around dudes ever, fair warning.

Also, has anyone ever read Anton LaVey’s book, “The Satanic Bible”? Because I did once at age 16, it was quite interesting in fact, and a lot of it explained the difference between human nature and evil. Worth a read. Ahhh there you go, judging a book by its cover… reading something doesn’t turn you evil, your actions do.

Posted on by poeeternal · 4 Comments

Remembers Worth

When you let some punks send you into hiding and then you return to the internet lands with zero followers

Yes, an official Tweet by Val Kilmer LOVING my pen!!! As a writer, win!!!!

So panic mode naturally because I thought I lost my king following me…

But my king and Bush still follow me!!!! 😍
*remembers worth*
“Be happy, it’s a choice”. A man of so few words but oh so wise
If you don’t think Gavin has seen the worse of me, you’d be wrong.
Birthday loves oh my effing god my king well he sees me yes he does, I exist, I exist!!!

This isn’t like our only interactions, I just remembered that his love is everything. I may be small on the totem pole but I’m on the fucking pole.

And I’ve got my Twitter followers coming in now saying they still have me so happy happy joy joy.

I dropped a 10-minute thread on Tuners about the importance of followers and likes (free app to listen and use, no download needed to listen): https://tuners.io/users/POEETERNAL

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Underworld

Hurt him
Hurt him to save him
Push him from hope
Let him learn to swim

Hurt him
Hurt him to save him
Give him some rope
Let him learn to trim

Hurt him
Hurt him to save him
Kick him down the slope
Maybe then he can feel

Hurt her
Hurt her to save her
Show her under your mask
The end at last

© Delia Ross. 2019

Inspired by heartache and a line from a favorite film, Moulin Rouge: hurt him to save him

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Bound

Twisted around his finger he has me wound
Like a string, pluck a note, make a sound
Up and down my neck his finger’s bound
Stretching fingers’ out ’til scales are found

Turn the volume up so cries are drowned
Make her beg for mercy where he’s crowned
Dig into her flesh a calloused frown
Teach her that there is no love around

Practice through the night ’til finger’s raw
Make her wish you never met at all
Polish over wounds until they thaw
Making sure she’s crawling down the hall

First there will be pleasure then a claw
Seeing things you’d rather never saw
Open wide fist inside your jaw
Safety here never was a law

© Delia Ross. 2019

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Hello Farewell

Fairytale or nightmare
Heaven or hell
Common man or devil
This time I can’t tell

Leisure or battle
Sickly not well
Poison or apple
To leave or to dwell

Whole or a sample
Free or for sale
Space or a shackle
Real or a spell

So many I tackle
His shit I can smell
Tongues full of babble
Be quiet or yell

Fist or a grapple
Satin or shell
To flee or to straddle
Correct or misspell

Stand still now or paddle
The boat took a swell
Clear thoughts or to channel
Hello or farewell

© Delia Ross. 2019

Dropped spoken word of this on my Tuners account 👍

If you like my writing, please consider subscribing to my new Patreon here (please & thank you): https://www.patreon.com/poeeternal

Keep up with me on Instagram here: https://www.instagram.com/poeeternal/

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Listen to me free on my radio channel at Tuners Radiohere: https://tuners.io/users/POEETERNAL

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Peaches and Cream

I am all the sweetness of a berry but I show him the sour of a peach
It seems my bitter tongue keeps him at a distance I can’t reach

If I could just learn a language that he and everyone speaks
If he could see through the lows where I have amazing peaks

I wish I could talk to him with my body
I could show him I know joy and naughty
I could kiss his lips and not feel a zombie
I could smile for him and not be so rowdy

There are so many things that I want to say
But my anxiety always gets in the way
And maybe if I had just one night
He could teach me so I could get it right

© Delia Ross. 2019

Writing this made me remember the nicknames my bestfriend (who died by suicide at age 13) and I had for each other, CREAMPUFF & JUICYFRUIT 😍 and we would say to each other, “you are my honeybun and I want to lick all of the cream off of you”. 😊 I LOVE THIS MEMORY. I was her “creampuff” *giggles* I am still sweet like that in the real world, away from a screen. Shy and nerdy but also a sexual beast. I keep showing the beast. But honestly, I can’t help it, it’s like my hormones are 13 again… Men go through their sexual prime early in life but women later… Like me, now. Send chocolates.

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Dancing

Not obsolete, no not yet
Though I keep dancing with death
I spin around, I break a sweat
But I keep missing a step

I dig deeper in, I hit reset
I still haven’t settled my debt
But it’s coming, like a comet
And honey, you can’t stop it

Pain is like a pet
It is my only asset
I am its favorite
It treats me like a threat

Well, me and sadness are a duet
Stick around, here comes another set
Sorrow and I have our own alphabet
We’ll teach you something you cannot forget

© Delia Ross. 2019

 

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A Visit From Lu Part 7

So there it was, Lu and I
Outstretched his hand an ally
There sat a truce within his eye
Another devil here to apologize

Once you’ve heard one lie you’ve heard them all
You can change the ending but you cannot stop the fall
You can change your perceptions but you’re still behind a wall
The only lies worth spinning are the ones you can’t recall

Lu has been there for me since the day that I was born
When my parents would beat me and my wings could not take form
As if it was his duty to sit with me and mourn
So deep down in the darkness that his feet would come to warn

There are some places angels aren’t meant to be
And it was during my lowest times Lu would come remind me
And it is always a fine line between heaven and hell I am walking
And there’s not a detail overlooked when the devil is talking

But the dark has come again and now Lu has arrived
But these really are his tunnels where we all reside
And even in this darkness my purity has thrived
I wonder if his prayers are the reason I survived

The words hello and goodbye never slip from my tongue
The sorrow feels deeper and long it was hung
The worry will linger where heart took a stung
And with very few words the devil just took a swung…

To be continued!?!

© Delia Ross. 2019

Oh my goodness y’all, Lu has been protecting her all of her life until now!?! What did he say to her? Why has he hurt her!?!

I’ve never tried writing like this before, my epic tragedy was written in one night after it came to me in a dream. I had an idea for a story (this one) and wanted to see if I could write a longer piece but I wanted it to be without rules and regulations and I wanted it to feel experimental. I haven’t written any rough drafts or used any of the prewriting techniques we were taught in school. I knew the basis for the story and I wanted it to feel open-world. I dig open world video games (I’m a huge gamer and I’ve been playing games since I was a little girl and it’s one reason I want to play Survivor CBS cuz game play matters and that’s the best game on fucking Earth and I’m getting ready to audition for a fourth time and the first rule of Survivor is never give up). Anyhoo. This has been a huge challenge for me and I can’t believe I’m already into part 7. Sometimes I just want to quit writing cuz I’m nowhere good as the people who admire me the most, even my best isn’t comparable. But I try so hard… in pretty much every aspect of my life. To fail over and over again. But that’s life, failing and getting back up again to fail again. *sigh*

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Lists

Depression worry not
Just divide your time into slots
Write a list of don’ts
Match it with the won’ts
Give the list a plot
Tie it in a knot
Care not where I rot
Then again on second thought
Gotta find that perfect spot
And then maybe it’s worth a shot
I’m a zombie: life and death is a constant postpone
It takes all of my energy just to sit here and moan

© Delia Ross. 2019

Oh my fucking gawdddddd, how many times have you heard, “just make a list” when you are depressed? I’m going to make a list alright and shove it up their fucking ass. I can’t even make a list on how to die. My will is not up to date. I can’t even fucking decide on a way. Or a place. And then, the dog… BUT I digress, somehow, if I just start making lists on things to be done (with dying number one) then my life would be in order, and if I just let God in I wouldn’t be depressed either, so says society. But if I tell my doctors that I want to fucking kill myself, they’ll take everything from me and lock me up in a fucking rubber room. Barbaric are the practices for treating depression. So, since no one can get it fucking right, y’all get to sit back and judge me from behind your screens, and some of you will even poke and prod me and then when I bite you call me crazy and you disappear. And since society has a hard time understanding that being depressed is not the same as being fucking crazy, the death toll continues to rise and I’m trying my hardest to jump on that fucking bandwagon. But, I’m too lazy too sick to even write a list of things to get done. And I don’t think I really want to die, I just want a friend cuz isolation is cold and dark and it’s kinda scary in here and fuck you for not forgiving me for biting you when you caused me to bite in the first place. Shame on you.

  • Get house in order
  • Godparents for pets?
  • Update will
  • Say goodbyes
  • Write letters
  • Pick outfit
  • Method of dying?
  • Location?
  • Famous last words
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Carcinogen

Gone but now back again
And by the end of the week
You’ll be missing then
It’s becoming routine
A cycle of ends
And now another peak
Is there ever zen
If honesty were to leak
I needed a friend
So frail and rarely meek
Are these Earthmen
It’s not what I seek
And you are carcinogen

© Delia Ross. 2019

Could use a fag now actually… (do Americans know it’s slang for cigarettes!?!)

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The Day I End

There she is, it is death on the horizon
And follow my sorrows she will
Until the day I end

There it goes, all the light from the Sun
I was looking for love where none of it was real
I was looking for hope in any direction I could ascend

There it flows, my hope is on the run
And bring with it a fear that covers with chill
While the devil whispers softly “suicide is your friend”

© Delia Ross. 2019

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Middle

I’ll take the middle of the night, when I’m feeling alright.
I’ll take the middle of the rush, I can never get enough.
I’ll take the middle of your love, where it fits like a glove.
I’ll take the middle of the page, and the center of your stage.
I’ll take the middle of your lie, the part you said you would try.
I’ll take the middle of the day, it feels the same anyway!
I’ll take the middle of knowing, that is where truth starts glowing.
I’ll take the middle of goodbye, that’s where our love died.
I’ll take the middle of nowhere, that’s the place I don’t care.

© Delia Ross. 2019

Posted on by poeeternal · 3 Comments

A Visit From Lu Part 3

Read: A Visit From Lu Part 1

Read: A Visit From Lu Part 2

A Visit From Lu Part 3

Lu entered my door bringing despair
He had it gift wrapped for extra flair
He covered it in agony to make it look rare
He had a look of concern but I know he didn’t care

So there we were both grinning –
Like in a game of chess but the devil’s always winning
The only hand I play is a joker never sinning
The only life I live is the one I’m never living

As Lu drew nearer he sat upon my table
Like an uninvited guest who should leave but isn’t able
And I am starting to feel very unstable
But my doubt only makes Lu more grateful (and we sat there through April)

Now the window shows that it is winter
And the fear is growing in my center
And all this doubt makes my tongue bitter
The devil got under me without lifting a finger

It’s like if I move a piece I’ll open Pandora’s box
And you know the devil can crawl just watch how he talks
And you know the devil can dance just watch how he walks
And you know the devil is purgatory just watch all the clocks

I’m damned if I do and I’m damned if I don’t
Whatever move, Lu will condone
He is a step ahead, anytime I’m wrong
How do you knock a devil off of a throne

To be continued!?!

© Delia Ross. 2019

Oh my goodness, 3 was a challenge! Notice how the devil seems to be moving his way throughout my house/life in this series? The underlining theme in chapter 3 is depression (purgatory). As well as, how we need to be careful about the choices we make in life. I didn’t set out for it to be this way, it’s just how the story developed. I hope you likey (the 5th stanza is my favorite)! 😊

Read: A Visit From Lu Part 4

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If

If words had weight
If wrongs had reasons
If wounds didn’t ache
If forgiveness had seasons

If goodbyes came with rainbows
If my love was chose
If only I was enough
If only he’d show up

If hands had healing
If tears had feelings
If life had meaning
If hearts were beating

If moments were real
If love were ideal
If lights were not blinding
If you would stop hiding

If galaxies were moving
If darkness stopped the blooming
If alibis were candy
If heartaches were brandy

© Delia Ross. 2019

If only I knew how to end this fucking heartache…

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Caught Between the Devil

Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea
Caught between dilemma and what you mean to me
Caught between a wrong and caught without my sight
Caught me with my mind when it wasn’t screwed on tight

Caught between the truth and having privacy
But none of these reasons grant you the right to see
Caught between an answer and caught beneath the light
Caught between the bygones and a hand that seems to bite

Caught between an angel and where a devil blew his horn
Caught between the towers falling in an endless mourn
Caught between a moral and caught between a fight
Caught between the will to not end my life tonight

© Delia Ross. 2019

I don’t know if I did that Devil phrase any justice but then I completely changed the rhyme scheme in the end but also many of the end words and then I couldn’t decide on whether to keep going or not… because feelings. And I know I could have carried on the rhyme scheme in the end but, rebel…

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Loss For Words

Take my hand, replace the pen with blade
Remove the smile and put on the ache
Close my eyes and pull down the shade
Memories are better when they fade

Take the ink and spread it on my pain
Ensure the tears are gone without a trace
Organize regrets and hide their face
Erase the love that’s written on the page

Say amends but never say goodbye
The space so far he’d never hear me cry
If I could take his pain you know I’d try
And if he ever wrote I would reply

© Delia Ross. 2019

having feels

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Tower of Sorrow

I am stranded in a tower of sorrow and I think I might need saving –

from the curse of a broken heart –
and how he left me alone in the dark –
but even worse drove a metaphorical spear into my side –
ensuring that my spirit died –
ensuring heaven was denied

Put a moat around my tears and get this blackness out of here

I am at the tower of sadness
Every hour in this madness

© Delia Ross. 2019

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Hunter

Hunting for a future
Hunting for a life
Hunting for a meaning
To not end it tonight

Hunting for a mirror
That doesn’t reflect strife
Searching for an answer
When the question’s never right

Searching for the devil
Under the pale moonlight
Searching for forever
In the middle of a fight

Searching for the handle
Of the blade that’s in my back
Searching for the color
When all I see is black

Searching in my heart
For the love it always lacks
Searching for some shelter
From the endless reign of attacks

Searching for my enemy
In every hand I hold
Searching for some peace
In a land it isn’t sold

Searching for some warmth
In a heart forever cold
Searching for the treasure
But never finding gold

Searching for the best
By bringing out the worst
Searching for the bubbles
To come along and burst

Hunting near the tower
Where she brings out your thirst
Searching in the pages
Of how to stop her curse

Searching in a shadow
Where a truth was still a first
Searching any bottle
Or any woman who can nurse

Searching for the cure
But nothing ever works
Kissing many frogs
But only finding jerks

Searching for an exit
Where it doesn’t ever hurt
Searching for the day
You put in more effort

Searching and hunting
But only gathering dirt
He’s an ocean on an island
And time is the desert

© Delia Ross. 2019

Oh my goodness, kinda long, I hope it wasn’t too boring. I’m sorry my intelligence is that of a child and I can’t lure you in with exotic words and fancy punctuation. I know I’m not enough, I never have been voluptuous in any area. *sigh

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Polaroid

I want everybody to be you and when they’re not I’m destroyed
And that leaves me wondering what kind of blockage you’ve deployed
Because life is at a stop when it is life that I avoid
For every memory stored you are a mental polaroid

I don’t want this and I don’t want that
If it’s not you it’s not allowed to pass
This toll booth is closed, you must find another path
If the thought isn’t of you, I’m going to squash it flat

Now my heart is closed and nothings getting through
And all these other feelings have no revenue
Now my doctor claims skies aren’t the only thing that’s blue
Yet none of these pills kill my desires of you

© Delia Ross. 2019


OH MY EFFING GAWD right, so, Alexander Ebert is reading an entire book on the awesome app he created called Tuners (it’s kind of like Instagram or Facebook without the video or photos and is radio format for open communications about anything). I drop a wee bit of rhyme there, I’m shy. People freestyle. It’s awesome and FREE. Alex is about as unplugged as they come, he’s a genius and my muse. 🙂 He’s teaching me how to be human. Anyhoo, this book he’s reading called “The Untethered Soul” is teaching me some stuffs. Pretty amazing I enjoy still learning. So chapter 6 got me heated and I left some commentary on Tuners about it. But I also woke up and freestyle dropped this poem *giggles* cuz as of yesterday I was ready to pack it in and quit. Writing all together. And living too I think. Whatev. I’m emo. Sue me. Wouldn’t be the first time. “The grass was greener, the light was brighter, the taste was sweeter, with friends surrounding, the nights of wonder, forever and ever…” (and bonus points if you know that song). Oh, the poem is about that dude I like clearly (not Alex, duh). But how many of us do that; cling to something? A memory, a moment whether it is good or bad? And that actually prevents us from living in the now. Living in the now, allows life to flow and happen naturally. But when we cling to the past, or to a thought, we are blocking the energy of essentially everything else around us. And this is true so often, for so much. So to really appreciate life, we must strive to be in the now. ✌

Note to self: STOP CLINGING

P.S. I’ll update later with some links to Tuners.

P.S.S. And so the lesson is, stop clinging, live in the now, leave your heart open, allow energy to flow. And we decide this ourselves every moment of our lives. It’s up to you to live free. (Meditation helps to clean out negative energies, I use rock and stone).

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Lost

So blinded by looking back at what you lost
Will let ego drown you no matter the cost
The love I gave you is covered with frost
Your future now fleeting without second thought

What was written was clear, so why now the fog
The lines and rhyme between us – written dialogue
There’s a number of them I could catalogue
But now the challenge is loving any at all

I know I’m not the best, I wasn’t even worth a chance
When another came along, you left without a glance
And now you stand pretending we weren’t in a written dance
And I guess denial and lying is now your final stance

© Delia Ross. 2019

Gonna stop writing cuz it’s not even worth copyrighting or subjecting you to my shitty poetry anymore. Save yer fucking likes for someone better. Oh, you already do.

THANKS FOR PULLING THE WOOL OVER MY EYES THEN FORCING ME TO BELIEVE NONE OF IT WAS REAL. THANK YOU

There’s nothing I like better, THAN WASTING MY FUCKING TIME.

I wish I could use people so easily as you do, and then disgard them. But worse, gaslight the entire thing.

OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH. IT’S EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED

I probably should take my lessons and learn from Sylvia Plath.

Shame my house doesn’t run on gas. SARCASM

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Nightlight

I keep a little nightlight turned on inside me called hope
I allow it to guide me when the dark is too blinding
When my knees are turned in and I am unable to cope
When moments are bleak and I require unwinding

It seems these days are darker than most
You say you understand but you don’t
You say you could help but you won’t
And Depression Isle is my favorite coast

Stability, what a fucking current you are
Ability, like a wave, I might get far
Tranquility, is a rather distant star
Humility, is as visible as a scar

You can find a trail of mistakes behind my depression
And their opinions of me you’ll find are open sessions
And the life I am living they’ll act like they can question
And it’s nearly impossible to form any real kind of connections

So I keep a little light turned on in me called hope
And on days of decline I grip it like rope
And it seems every hour I am on a slope
And it’s hard to believe I am alone on this globe

© Delia Ross. 2019

Posted on by poeeternal · 5 Comments

Just a shoutout to my tribe

Hey guys (it’s Southern slang so it means all), I know I have been a bit anti-social, withdrawn, pissy, childish, and certainly many other adjectives, I am a bit transparent no doubt (and I have been dealing with a chemical imbalance known as depression) but I wanted to thank you for still coming to my blog even though I haven’t been going to yours as much lately. I swear I want to read your stuff and make it up to you, there are many things that I want to do that depression is keeping me from. It literally keeps me from life. Most of the time I go without television or playing video games or listening to music or playing my guitar or reading or any of the other pastimes that normally would bring me enjoyment. It’s full on isolation and anxiety. Thanks for not giving up on me (yet). I am still fighting the good fight. I sometimes leave bad crumbs. I’m sorries. Forgives me? xx

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Prozac

I told the doctor I don’t want to be issued Prozac
He guarantees, it’ll help the things, my future lack
I told the pharmacist, I had things I needed to get off my back
And with a smile, or a devil’s grin, I reached and took my sack

I told my friends, I’m sleeping well, though an insomniac
I tell them still, I’m up the hill, but I can’t relax
I take a knee, and pray to God, that was the climax
Both depression and anxiety yelling back at me to face the facts

© Delia Ross. 2019

Sidenote: I don’t really take Prozac but I could throw at you a slew of other prescriptions. Though I’m advocating for medical mary to be written for vets…because truthfully, it’s the ONE thing that works (and I feel less like ripping someone’s head off). If vets had access to medicinal mary, there’d be less suicides because big Pharma actually does make you more suicidal and so the propaganda and fear-mongering against that plant needs to stop *pops pill*

Posted on by poeeternal · 21 Comments

Depression On

I get so scared, I cut so deep
I tell myself that dying is the latest craze
Everyone has done it who’s already left this plain –
Dying is living’s final stage
And it doesn’t matter how you’re dressed, we all shit the same
And then I go a little deeper cuz this darkness is a maze
And I’m always hoping that it’ll help take away the pain
And so I drown another bottle because big pharma leads the way
And I slow down on the throttle because life is speeding away

But now another year has passed and I’m simply starting to rot
And the doctors write another prescription to try and manage the thought
And I can give another apology, but it’s still all my fault
And remorse it isn’t cheap, it seems they tripled the cost

Let me out, let me out, lemme out of this haze
Let me sleep, let me sleep, let me sleep, let me dream better days

Goodbye tomorrow, I will seek you in the future
And somewhere in that memory you will wonder why you didn’t mute her
And somewhere in that prison you’ll remember you are your own ruler
Dear future self, please start over
It only takes a step, I promise you’ll find closure

© Delia Ross. 2019

Here come the waves
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Chess

He moves me around like pieces of a chess board
A game he fully intends to win
He uses me like a pawn in a game of life
And he knows I will never quit

With his pen and with his will he continues to record
Every single squinch I make because he likes it when I sin
And deeper in he puts the knife
For I can never match his wit

For months his darkness I explored
I still feel him deep within
Many times I dropped the strife
And he still would not submit

I turn to rage when I’m ignored
Do you think it makes him grin?
I ask him not to be his wife
Just a friend I can commit

© Delia Ross. 2019

Make love, not war ✌
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Drowning

Do you know what it’s like to cut the cord on your dream?

Though it isn’t just a dream from sleep

But one from awakening

It is a lifeline to your fate

The weight of consequence
Feels like an ocean
As you’re sinking

There are moments you want to swim back up
Fleeting moments of reason
Caught in a net of fishing line

More struggle

No you have to sink deep
Feel the pressure in your chest
The anxiety, the agony, the sorrow

You want to take a deep breath
It would be your very last

Panic. Now regret. Doubt.

Peace will come again.

As soon as my pocket knife cuts this cord
And I race to ascend
The light my friend
A reasonable decision
Air in my lungs again
Pain lessening

You were dead weight.
An anchor in my soul.

I swim towards finality.

I’ve made it to the lighthouse.

You are a memory I drowned away.
And I nearly drowned with it.

You would have been the last thought on my mind.

As you were always on my mind.

Unrequited love.

A pain I hope to never know again.

As I crawl off the shores of a dream that died.

I am never looking back.

© Delia Ross. 2019

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Depression Avenue, Anxiety Lane

My brain says to go left
So my feet instead go right

My soul says to give it up
Yet my body puts up a fight

I’m so tired of feeling low
But my eyes stay in the light

Everybody thinks they know
But they haven’t got the sight

Round and round the Sun may go
But my days aren’t very bright

I have shelter from the cold
Yet my heart has frostbite

I am scared so I act bold
But I mostly feel uptight

© Delia Ross. 2019

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I’m So Scared

I’m so scared for that little girl
Who grew up abused in a broken world
By men who only ever used

Who never taught her love
Or how to be well
No one will care
Unless to get rid of

That little girl now five foot six
It matters not if love exists
For it has never reached her lips
Love serves only as a crucifix

Oh how I cry for her!
To her family a stranger
To the world a number
To death an anchor

I cannot save her though I tried
I must now stop being her guide
For I only seem to make her cry
And make her pain multiply

Oh how I hold her tight!
And squeeze with all my might
Her eyes blind from sight
Her body coiled from fright

She is a desperate, fragile thing
The gentleness of a morning spring
A seed in the dark in need of blooming
She is the breath of an angel singing

Oh how I know her aches!
I know her dreams and her mistakes
I know where her branches break
I know the thunder her cries make

Tiny frail hands always with blessings
Teaching others love was always the lessons
Helping others was always the message
But now it’s time to end the sessions

© Delia Ross. 2019

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Crystal Ball

My eyes with such vision they are a crystal ball
Things that I see leave me clawing up the hall

Revelations so heavy I’m breaking down my wall
Time always settles me but every time I fall

Try to pick myself up but instead I will crawl
Another day is gone without a hello or a call

I’m beginning to think I’ll never hear from him at all
And I guess I’m not as important as I once had thought

© Delia Ross. 2019