Hey Depression, come let’s talk.
Let’s talk face to face, you and I.
Oh I’m sorry, I forgot. You don’t actually have one.
You made a mask that looks similar to my happy face,
and wore it at all times to make me believe,
I’m the monster under my own bed.
You have the opposite of the Midas Touch.
Because everything you touch,
becomes a synonym of sadness for me.
You took my happy memories and distorted them into
people and places
that now give me anxiety and panic.
The night you forced yourself upon me,
my insomnia was born.
I’ve spent countless days
dragging myself through them,
almost saying sorry to everyone I pass by
for acquiring volume and mass;
for breathing the same air that they do;
for just simply existing.
So many nights have passed by me
where I stretched out my hand
to try and catch a glimpse of the
that others say night holds,
but you, Depression, lay beside me
holding back my hand,
coloring it black,
But enough is enough.
I’m staring right at you,
nodding my head in disapproval
of everything you say,
I’m not going to let you cunningly snatch away my life.
It all ends here, with you.
It stops when I say it stops.
This is my life.
This is my world.
You don’t belong here.
You are nothing without
the strength of my brain
or the weakness of my heart.
You prey on people in their weak moments
and slip into their lives with their late-night coffees
and stitch up their lips.
But I have had enough of you.
I’m not weak.
I’m not broken.
No, not for you.
Never for you.
I was naive enough to trust you
when you said I am not worth all the good things in life.
But screw you.
Because you were wrong.
People around me love me for who I am.
I have even strangers who I can reach out to.
I have the ability to be unique.
And I am not letting that go.
So with all the due disrespect,