Depression

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Depression dangles so close,
It will be there if I just give up hope.
It would be so easy to let it win,
To just give in.

I already don't sleep,
Who would notice if I didn't eat?
Who would care,
If my wrists weren't bare?

I could give my wrists pretty little patterns,
And scars that look like bracelets.
Maybe even use my blood,
To give them some color.

I could be the next great painter,
With my wrists as my canvas.
It wouldn't take much,
To draw a little blood.

Maybe I'll hurt in a way,
That makes the real pain go away.
With my heart ticking like a clock,
Maybe I can make my time stop.

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