I am a parasite.
I benefit from your loss
But at least i keep you skimming above the bottom of rock bottom
Not crashing you
That, too, is to my benefit
Because i can continue to use you
I fail when i let you lose too much
To the point of death
Because then I can no longer use you
And my benefits disappear

I am Depression
And i make you sad and empty
I am Anxiety
I make you fear and worry
I am Stress
I make you tired and aggravated
I am a parasite
And I keep you skimming above the bottom of rock bottom
And I will most likely fail...

It seems that the words
I've used to create a painting
has been bound by a time
that I no longer wish to reconcile
The painting, beautifully saturated
is nothing but a mere mirage
that I met in the beauty of your
summer heat