Does he really mean the terrible things he says about me?
Truth makes noise (early morning ramble + snap)
Your love is a supermassive black hole
Past relationships do not define me. Old versions of me died. Zero luggage. So much time wasted trying to find love.
I had to drown the thing that was drowning me...
This is not my best writing, but it comes from a real place of fear as I battle depression and suicidal tendencies. Trigger warning.
They care not while I rot.
He is everywhere inside me. A micropoem about confusion and worry. And a little bit of love.
Letting go is so hard. I can't. I love him. I shouldn't but I do... 😦
I cheat on the day with the night. The Sun is chasing the Moon and the Moon is seeking the Sun but the two never meet.
The cost of mistakes, the price of reason
A poem about the devil in hell or about depression. Depression IS hell.
I know not anything.
All the things I've done and want to do. Truth is, I only want you. A tragic poem which contains an ounce of hope. My life is a Shakespearean tragedy. 😊
I need him
I imagine getting pulled into a black hole must feel exactly like depression and anxiety.
The lure of fucking love. A poem. A micropoem about purgatory, longing, desire.
A poem about cancelled friendships
What you want is right before your eyes...
The world sleeps It passes noise for confusion Sleep for delusion Death it still creeps © Delia Ross. 2019
A poem about how hard we make life for one another.
"My darling husband, I can't look at your face, I made a promise but it went to waste. The lovely day when we became one, and the lovely night when we planned our son. But now I've never felt so low before, I don't want to look in your eyes anymore. I saw your pain … Continue reading My Son Part 2: The Note Beneath His Pillow