A Depression Poem – By J.E. Skye

I wanted to preface this poem with a “trigger warning,” this is a poem I wrote about suicide and depression recently, at this time I am NOT depressed or suicidal. But, this poem could trigger those feelings, so please read only if you are in a safe place. This free-verse poem was written during a poetry class in my last semester of my bachelor’s degree. It was my raw feelings when I was suicidal turned into a poem, please enjoy. I will link the other poem I posted recently.

Updated Version of my Poem: 12:15 am

My Darkest Depression

It has been a long while. I am lost in my darkest contemplations. Sinking, unable to breathe. “I’m Depressed,” there I admit it. Teetering, on the edges of the blackest of thoughts— suicide. The darkness serves as my safe and unsafe place. “I am always here for you,” says the darkness— it is far away in the distance, but I hear its cry. Fearful of this darkness I let the thoughts of the end consume, afraid of what could happen. What might happen? What will happen? This winding road is leading me to the point of no return. The darkness laughs, and it moves closer in the distance.

My thoughts seek the out the painful memories, and the thoughts missile into my consciousness. Afraid. So Afraid of losing myself. My life is a mess, a black hole of endless despair. At night I lay my head down— wanting to cry, and so I cry myself to sleep. “Yes, my friend, give in. You belong here with those is who lose themselves.
Wishing. Waiting. Wanting. This will be my last day, nevermore. Awake. Alone. Again. Another day lost in the darkness, it consumes my inner soul.

God hates me for what I have become, I hate myself so much that God— he has given up on me. Let’s face it, my hope evaporated long ago, it is a wonder that no one in my life wants anything to do with this lost soul. “I am here for you—always,” the darkness tells me. Can I fight this— is there something I can do? Probably not. My life is this mess. The Chaos. I created a monster inside me.

The darkness begins to consume, first my mind— and then my body. The darkness is just outside my door, it tells me this is the right thing. “Death is just mean to an end— the end of the infinite agony,” he tells me. “Give in, your life is not worth living. Give in, it will be painless.” Thoughts devour any shred of hope. The darkness wants to win. It just might.

I find myself on edge again— a familiar place, but this time it is different. I lay out the pills tidily in front of me. Counting. Thinking. “Yes,” exclaims the darkness, “this is who you are now.” How many sleeping pills does it take to sleep forever? This becomes routine— a nightly ritual that never changes. I tell myself every night, this is the night. “You must do this now,” the darkness hovers just beside me, “this is your destiny.”A flood of my past consumes my present. There is no future.

What does life mean anymore? I continue to perish in sinking into darkness. Forever. Darkness, my best friend— and worst enemy. Depression my frequent companion, never leaving me. My darkest depression. Will I give in?

James Edgar Skye

Please Help me Publish my Memoir

I am almost done editing my memoir “The Bipolar Writer,” and I have decided to go down the self-publishing route. If you can donate anything towards my goal, it would mean the world to me. I am still working towards enough to pay an artist for a good cover. Those that donate will get a special mention in my memoir on a page dedicated to those that made my memoir possible. Thank you in advance!


Photo Credit: unsplash-logoCristian Palmer


33 Replies to “A Depression Poem – By J.E. Skye”

  1. Beautiful words! I am happy that you are feeling better. I am always a listening ear. Keep your head up, and keep expressing yourself through writing, because you ARE talented! ❤

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I really enjoyed your poem. Not because it is enjoyable to see others in pain but because I can relate to almost every word, and it is somewhat comforting when someone else knows that you’re going (or went) through. My favorite section was:
    Wishing. Waiting. Wanting. This will be my last day, nevermore. Awake. Alone. Again. Another day lost in the darkness, it consumes my inner soul.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. I just want to say that you’re words are very descriptive and said with much sadness, I could literally feel what you felt. I am a new fellow blogger in the same boat as you. I’m glad to hear those feelings are in the past.
    Take care,

    Liked by 2 people

  4. This is a beautifully written description of an incredibly ugly feeling that most of us living with #depression know all too well. Thank you for so honestly and bravely sharing this. Hopefully, through sharing our struggles, we will find strength in each other!
    Please follow along with myself and others at https://whoyouneeded.blog
    and help support others going through the same battles!

    Liked by 2 people

  5. This is amazing. I was almost in shock by the last stanza. All I could think was, “How did James get into my head and hear my thoughts?” Then I realized you didn’t. We are just two travelers who happened to go to the same place.

    During the depths of my depression I would secretly laugh when the doctors and therapists would ask me if I had thoughts of suicide. When the answer was “yes”, I would say “yes”. What else do I have to lose, right? But it wasn’t the “yes” answers that scared me. At least in that moment of saying “yes” I was absolutely sure of (read: in control of) my thoughts. The “no” answers were the scary ones. My doctors never realized my “no” answer related to ANY thought I had. I said “no” because for the life of me I couldn’t tell you what my thoughts were, and I could not predict what my future thoughts would be. After all, if I could control my thoughts and even my actions (to an extent) then I probably wouldn’t have been shuffling between doctors, therapists and pharmacies. So many times things felt like they just “happened”. I would be going along just fine and then WHAM! The sadness, loneliness, hopelessness and feelings of inadequacy would just materialize. Often I would be sobbing and not even aware that is what I was physically doing. It was like someone flipped a switch in me, and I would be completely and utterly consumed by depression. Crying is a physical event. If I couldn’t control that action, how could I, or anyone for that matter, control a suicidal action. It is well-known that we can’t just talk/think ourselves out of depression. Why is it so hard for people to realize that (for some people) suicide is just another one of those physical events that are outside of anyone’s control? “Just put down the gun”, “just put down the rope”, “just throw away the pills”, “just put down the razor”, “just get off the bridge”…if we were capable of doing that, then we’d also be able to follow advice like “just stop crying”, “just think happy thoughts”, “just snap out of it”, “just get out of bed and have fun”, “just pick up the phone and call someone”, or “just think of the people who love you”.

    I’m also happy to report I’m not in that dark place anymore. Looking back at who I was back then is like watching a biography on someone else’s life. I’m so thankful that I’m here and able to look back. So many sufferers are not.

    Keep doing what you are doing, James. You have a writer’s heart. Although this post could be a trigger for some, I’d like to believe it is more of a beacon of hope. Proof that life can (and does) get better, now matter how dark and deep the pits may seem.


    Liked by 2 people

  6. Thank you so much for this Steph!! I joe it is a beacon of light. I have been through so much darkness in my life that it help to write and share. Thank you for sharing your experiences it is never east to do.

    Liked by 1 person

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