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Depression

 










Why do I become enraged?

Why is happiness so far out of reach?

Why can't I at least love myself?

Why can't I appreciate my existence?


Why am I tormented?

Why do I ruin everything I love?

Why does it feel foreign to be kind?

Why do I avoid people or push them away?


Where has all my energy gone?

Where did joy escape to?

Where can I find some strength?

Where did all the time go?


When is the last time I laughed?

When will I stop faking contentment?

When can I rest from this painful emptiness?

When will I figure it out?


How can I be so rude?

How do others see me?

How do I fix myself?

How do I find refuge?


I'm graceless.

I'm unlovable.

I'm repulsive.

I'm fake.


How I wish someone would just...

Hold my face and assure me I am none of those things.

I only want to be forgiven and understood.

Perhaps I am too far gone to save.


What has gone so terribly wrong in me 

That I'm uncapable 

Of steering my ship

Through the changing tides?


Why do I wreck it instead 

And blame it on others

All the while entertaining a sick urge 

To bring them down with me?


I'm angry at you for what I see is in me.

I say you're selfish, because I am.

I resent in you what I resent in myself.

The hate on my face is meant for me.


How is it I can see myself from the outside

Destroying my life and that of others

And want to stop it all but have no control

Over the monster that looks just like me.


It wants to be assured it's not a monster.

But what good does that do?

To tell a monster it is not what it is?

Or would it change altogether?


Everything is a mess.

I am a mess.

And not a beautiful one. 

I'm a horrendous and hopeless disaster.


I have a simple desire for love.

But I am beginning to think 

That my life is a cruel joke 

For all deities' amusement.


Will I ever come out of this?


-NS





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