subtly, subtly does the depression
rip me apart- a part of me
burning, it's all concerning and
undeserving—unnerving under my skin
i wish I could be a different person.

Who am l, who am I?

I....am the representation of all depression
in the darkest thoughts, all chasing- not to mention
The deception of what is my self-esteem,
a passive aggressive; less than the self taught lessons
a dog chasing it's tail, in a ball of tears my eyes are
always fetching.

I am depression: a random whisper of sadness
this is my depression who robs my gladness
A quiet madness, maddening villain; a saddening
million dark thoughts- non making sense but just bad dealing
I choke myself on awkward feelings, cutting myself
with the sharp thoughts of over thinking

I am depression: who makes you feel like everyone
else is in their well order. "You don't have much time to
make something of yourself, you’re getting much older"
Pour me tears of cringy replays, poor me could have
done better. People who pierce you, asking aren't
you supposed to be clever

I am depression: making you question everything
in anxiety's language. You're in a perfect imbalance,
impasse- a dead end in your head. Cornered, cornered!

This is depression, in it's usual session, an unhealthy
obsession to beg the question: is this out of your
compression? Comprehensive over spending, a penny for
a thought-in the end to only self lessen

I pray to the Lord that this feeling doesn't follow,
and if so, I don't want tomorrow.