Oh you silly state,
Can't you leave me alone?
Those silly little words,
All the second thoughts,
Second actions,
Seconds later,
Poof there goes that happy place,
A dripping sludge of empty thoughts,
Empty actions,
Just simply empty.
The sad part to all of is it's ability to snap on like a switch,
But takes all the power in the world to shut it off,
Those empty thoughts?
Only fill with agitation,
Frustration,
Confusion till--
A drag of metal,
Sharp like paper,
On the thighs,
Behind the knees,
Perhaps close to the shoulders?
On the hips or across the ribs,
All out of sight,
To let the oozing black hatred out,
Not hatred for others,
No,
Hatred for yourself,
Your frustrations,
And angers,
And pains only made by the black void in your body,
A shell existence when the pitch black set loose!
And then?
Shame,
For the act,
The wanting it out,
That poisonous void,
Where it will consume you again.
Only to have the process repeat itself.
Again,
And again.
Author's note:
Welcome to what depression is like.