It’s been quite some time since I’ve turned my hand to poetry, but since I’ve been writing such a voracious amount of prose lately, it felt about the right time. I make no promises for its quality, but maybe it’ll ring true with one or two of you.

 

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Depression Is…

 

Night time vision on a sunlit day

The inability to accept proof of reality

Feeling your stomach churn at the sight of happiness

Knowing you’ll die alone

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Incapacity

Sleeping all day when there are things to do

Writing furiously and loathing the outcome

Knowing your life is worthless

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Scars on an arm that you hide from everyone

Wanting to drown in black memory

The past being ever better than the present

Knowing there is nothing yet to come

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Going to work every day, not knowing why

Coming home to mess, and anger, and disappointment

Wanting to forget everything and everyone

Knowing there is no escape…no hope

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Featured image from: http://www.midnight-artwork.com/?attachment_id=237.

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