where we write it

Dear Depression, I know you’re there…

 

I keep pouring my grief everywhere I go. It’s spilling from my eyes as it tears,  spilling from my soul as I breathe, spilling from my heart as I feel. 
I’d write, and ask about everything darkened from my sight.  I’m currently lost, and just waiting in place.  Please don’t blame me for not moving… I can’t.  I
tried but no muscle would move. Even my brain thinks about what I don’t want. and my heart beats to meet someone who’s gone long ago.
I sincerely tried, I’m ashamed in the same time. It’s big and surrounding to everything that it seems unreal.   I’m paralyzed in every aspect of my life.  I feel the time moving; painful, but the good thing that it’s moving so I hope it means it will be over soon. 
  The aura of rejection and stress made me drop low..  life has come to have no meaning now.
  I don’t even know who I can tell this to… who’s interested, someone to listen and help?  *sigh, it started to sound I’m asking too much.  That’s why I’m pouring and pouring guilt and emptiness into this paper.. my dear paper, bear it with me… me and my effin lonely pen, soon it will be over.  I’m like you waiting the time ’till the end of time.  Mind of humans…  mighty and no perfect,  I never anticipated being lost inside you, then ask you to save me from yourself.
   All the shy attempts to get away where I face death and get closer and closer . How many times did I overdose? get hospitalized and surgeries to make it again, starved myself till passing out on another time, threw myself off 4th floor, rushed and flipped car accidents, cut myself, get lost and run away for months, been in shooting crimes, and many others…  you just didn’t want me. I remember I stayed up 6 nights just to let be our last meeting.
but I was captured in my loneliness,  and human nature.  My understanding of insanity gave me a hard time; why pass away, keep eating.  It crossed my mind to blame someone but realized that no punishment or justice will return my rights.  Keep me the beast, and you stay the beauty…  unlike the fictional tale, I was left to mirror my wrinkled face.  I can’t face what I fear, can’t let others know it, can’t tell them
to hate it,  or tell them they caused it…   it’s not there, but I’m living with it.
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