houston, and the trouble with mental illness

i don't think i could begin to tell you all how much this story affected me today. i almost burst out in tears at my desk. i know only 1 song by Houston, but something just grabbed me and shook me when i read about what happened to him.

and this is what came out of me. normally i'd put it in my poetry diary, but,eh. i don't feel like it. it's not really poetry. it's...something else.

to call this "houston, we have a problem" would be cliche' and disrespectful, i think.

this is the beginning of the end. the apathy that takes over troubled minds. strangely enough, we are numb, yet we still cry.

numbers and rituals are comfort. order amongst chaos. we are in control for once. there are no deviations. a departure from routine brings trepidation unparalleled. we don't know why.

we are the ones of destruction. we feel mighty and untouched, yet we
know, deep down, just how breakable we are.

save us from ourselves.

we consider 13 a lucky number. we want to go "Home". we do what it takes to break free from our brains.

why doesn't anyone hear us?

everything is a catalyst
everything is an aftershock
we feel it when another's heart bleeds
we drink in rememberance

love is viscious as hate
a method, a motive
we crave the terror
yet run from attention

fingers laced with beautiful fingers
hands that have grasped the same blade --
a fistful of dust.

did you really want to die?
do any of us?

i bet you didn't feel a thing, that day
but you will from now on

and there will be one of us crying for you every night.

posted by: less-than3

spoke the truth!

[if you like what you read, please clix me!]

7:30 p.m.
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