Depression has crept his way into my bones
And made a home
For rent he pays me in tears and self-loathing
(This is the richest I’ve been in months)
Each morning he sips coffee and reads sad poetry like it’s the daily news
He makes a mess of my body
He’s such a terrible guest
And I’m getting tired of his shenanigans
But he has nowhere else to go
Maybe soon, he will pack up a few things and take a vacation to some faraway place
But even if he does, he’ll be back shortly
Because I am his permanent residence,
And he is far too comfortable here
To ever move out.