Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Poem: Depression

Hello to the monster that lives in your head,
He’s got nowhere to be until after you’re dead.
Hello to the monster that lives in your heart,
He volunteers to tear you apart.
He calls pride ‘integrity,’
He calls help ‘contempt,’
He helps you resist any grace that might tempt.
He says friends are great, but just not right now—
You have more loathing to do than time will allow.
When your friends speak, he helps your flawed hearing,
Shifting “needful” into “weak,” kudos into jeering.
You see a way through, but he steers you away,
Kindly explaining it will lead you astray.
He plugs your ears to any bid for surcease,
Determined your frailty should not bring you peace.
He says solutions are shortcuts and suffering is noble,
As his cement ’round your feet makes you immobile.
In this fashion he puts a knife to your vein,
And in your desperation to end your pain,
You forget every escape he made you disdain.

***Edit: 4/29/16*** This poem is not about me. I'm fine! Sorry if I alarmed anyone!

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