What do I feel?
I believe I'm eaten by the darkness.
And in me lies the demon.
The demon of the past.
It crawls to my soul, softly poison it with memories
This letter, song, text..
From out all my writings,
Is not worth to read without compassion.
And the last scar is made long ago,
Mother are you alive?
Because the box is full
Nothing can fit in it anymore.
My brain Is dying irrationality.
Days are happy.
Nights are tough.
They bring depression back.
This dog is here,
I need to sleep but it's almost eleven.
Don't search for me, don't need me.
Sick bastard.
YOU ARE READING
Depression
PoetryDe•pres•sion /dèpreSH(e)n/ 1. The feeling of serve despondency and dejection "I'm often silent when I'm screaming inside." - CREDITS TO THE OWNER WHO WROTE SOME OF THESE--Will state the ones that are MINE. Don't fight me over this.
