They stabbed her
Gnawed at her body
Feeding off her every
insecurity.

They punched her
Repeatedly, rhymically
Beating the life and soul
away.

They thought it was funny
They thought it was clever
They thought it was cool

They knew it wasn't correct.

They thought that
taunting with someone's life was a joke
That it was hilarious
to tip somebody over the edge
That it was satisfying
to bring someone down

That it was clever; the way they forced their victim
to
drown.

These days
I spend
a lot of time
not exactly wanting
to die
but just
to be dead, maybe,
to rest.
There's a difference,
or at least
there used to be.
I am regret.
I am self-defeat.
I think about
thinking
more than I
used to.

I guess Depression will do that to you.

My body hurts.
Aches, actually.
It's constant.
In my head,
dull static
But louder.
Thumping rhymically.
Like, really ******* loud
all the
******* time.
Things are heavy.
My arms
weigh far too much.
My lungs
are concrete.
They pump
stale air.
My spine is sawdust.
My spit is mud.
Didn't my eyes
used to be
more blue?

Depression is an ******* who will do this to you.

My words
used to be sharp
and loud.
Electric and
strange, they
tumbled out
of me,
like machine
gun fire,
a swarm
of bees.
Now I have to
pry them
loose, carefully
like teeth.

Depression is mechanical and it's systematically destroying me.

A sadness so heavy
It's worn like a winter coat
It makes your chest tight
Until feel like your dragging it along
Is this where it belongs?

It sits on your eyelids in the mornings
Desperately trying to cling them shut
Only to sit on the lashes later that night
To stretch them wide

It consumes your spirit
Until you feel like flesh an blood
As if your skeleton
Was eaten by your sadness
Making it nearly impossible to get out of bed

It clings to your finger tips
Making you shake constantly
As if you're anxious
Or fragile
But that only confuses them more

It lays on your appetite
Until you're running dry on energy
And no explanation
Because no one can see the demons
Dancing on your stomach lining

It re-wires your thoughts
Until you're no longer yourself
Making you think you're lost
And completely self absorbed
Into your own sorrow

It climbs into your skin
Making you itch like an addict
Feeling uncomfortable
And paraiod in the comfiest of places

It hides behind your eyes
No matter how good you are at hiding it
Regardless of how much you smile
It doesn't matter if you're bubbly
One look in your eyes
And the truth is told

Once you take your sadness somewhere
It embeds itself in the location
When you go back the demons
Will scream at you rhymically
As you drag yourself through the door
Like the church bells chiming on Sunday morning

The problem with sadness is
It becomes comfortable
Somehow it writes itself into your personality
It prints itself to your skin
And it clings on to you forever more

The depressive thoughts will stop
But the profuse shaking
Battle wounds
Bags under your eyes
The memories in your favourite places
The way you think
The foods you eat
And the weight on your shoulders
Become a part of you

Not only does the sadness follow you
you follow it