I can feel it.
Falling into old habits.

I don't know how to feel.
I can actually feel the depression.
I can feel the self hate and the angst.
I can feel it all coming back.
And it scares the hell out of me.
I might just as soon be in hell
than be here.
than be me.

I once heard that "One perfect night's not enough"
and it's really ******* coming true.
It will never be enough
I will never be enough
this will never be enough.

I can feel it.
I can feel the depression pooling behind my eyeballs.
Maybe a bottle of brandy will chase it away.
Or maybe a few pills will cover it up.
Or maybe it will stay there forever
until mixed with a pool of blood
it seeps through the floorboards.