I open my eyes and
see that the day has given me
a dull grey attitude again because of
the depression that I hide
from within, a smile to go along with it
to avoid the questions that people ask
that always seem to hurt.

These scars that hide behind
my long-sleeved shirts or the sleeves
of my jacket, are the marks of when
I couldn't handle life anymore.
Yet, I am always persistent, even if I am
already hopeless, worthless and pained.
I still hold on even if I've been doing that for long.

I am a soldier who fights my demons alone.
A battle with a pre-determined winner yet,
I should try to manage not to lose.
I wear a mask to hide the tears that
I always shed every second of the day.
And, even if I always fight back,
the monster that fights me, always comes back.