my depression poem

It stresses me
I commit the guilt of being afraid
when it sneaks into my bones
It breaks me, and changes my faith
In religion, life and expectations

I know my depression very well
It hides in my happiness and sadness
It makes my voice hoarse when I cry
Helpless, I become, motionless
I stand
In the chaos of my empty room

Depression is not a personal choice
as it is described by some
It is an outsider who lives in people’s places by force
Nobody chooses it, it is not fun
I feel it an ocean of tears occupies my eyes
I feel it giving me a sudden nudge
Troubles me, enhances my fears

I feel it
when I want to lose everybody
when am hungry, but it stops me from eating
from sleeping
from feeling
Irritatingly, it introduces me to my worst panic attacks

My depression is a fishing net
it spreads out under my flesh
navigating through my bones and blood
trying to muddle the part of my body which
I call a heart

My depression is a skilled cat in catching mice
It catches my happy moments and turn them into mess
Now, I know it is a mistake to laugh
I am up to mischief
by all means


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