Depression

His blistering, infectious fingers are wrapped so tightly around my veins they push clear salty blood out of my pores and through my eyes.

It spills down my puffy cheeks, and I brush past you so I can hide somewhere alone,

His tendrils reach out from inside me, forcing through bone and muscle.

I hardly wince, but the pain is almost unbearable

You don’t notice

His network of tightening hands leak black ink into my brain, behind my eyes, writing malicious stories only I can hear

I cannot see myself in the mirror anymore, I wear baggy shirts and big jeans

I don’t tell you that I hate myself

My body is a weak oak tree and he is poison ivy, destroying me from the inside out- engulfing me one piece at a time

You cannot see him, you only see me

He has been living here so long, that I don’t know where he starts and I end, I don’t where he came from, or who I am without him

You can’t tell either

I know I am dying but killing him would be like killing me,

We’ll die together

“Is there anything wrong?”

He moves my lips and he tells you that it’s nothing

“Oh, you’ll be ok”

 

I smile at you and walk away, but I am breaking inside.

 

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