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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #2031804
Freeform poem about depression
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This depression lies heavily
Upon me.
The weight of the World,
Crushing.
My footsteps are so loaded.
The passing words of strangers
Pierce like screams,
They are so loud.

The outlook is bleak.
My options have become exhausted,
My time filled
With empty friendships
Or blank faces,
Needy vultures
Scrabbling for my flesh.

All these vexed emotions,
They fill the room
Like black balloons.

I will die here;
A slave to the wage,
Devoid of colour.
Bled dry
Like a tapped tree,
Felled,
Unconscious.
Limbs like lead
I look to the sky.

Its greyness overwhelms me.

Here I am,
So disenchanted,
Disengaged.
Tired of all the
Fine thanks,
How are you’s,
Hours like days,
Endless waiting for buses,
The cold.

Behind my fake bake façade
The doors are closing.
This snake in the grass
Will slither away,
Unseen, unheard,
Worn to a ravelling,
Like the Tailor of Gloucester
I have no more cherry coloured twist.
I have drunk from Circe’s cup;
The wine goes down too well.

You all made everything
Too hard.

I could have had boats and beaches,
Fish at my ankles in the
Cool water,
An open book,
The smell of coconuts –
My hand sweeps the sand lazily
As I disappear in to the earth.



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