Spoken Word: Depression

~~*****~~

The video performance is linked here. My advice is to watch it ^~^
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I know I have a thousand and one things I need to get done today.
But I don't want to do any of them.
I don't have the energy.
I can barely list the chores in my mind.
Every time I seem to find, an idea or task I need to pass
they lazily slip through my brains grasp.
Like sand falling through the fingered gaps of a child's hand.
A castle, trying to stand defiant to the onslaughts of wind and waves.
But never for long.
It crumples
It dissolves
Back into a simple pile of earth,
Before it even has a chance at a proper birth.
Materials too dry. Too sun stricken to keep shape.
My motivation has been sucked clean, leaving nothing but a sunken disposition.
Absent from the body which is now labeled as damaged goods.
It's a struggle with no solution.
No remedy for my ache.
There is always something trying to push me down.
Gravity has its hooks in deep, and the urge to literally lie on the ground
Is growing with every withered step.
Shackles clank noisily around my ankles
A contradicting jingle to heavy footfall
Taunting me with its sharp menacing song played in every step I take
Reminding me that I am a sinner,
A prisoner with no hope of escape
And at this point, I've stopped kicking
I don't know the meaning of the word "fight" anymore
Drowning in a debt I don't know how to pay off.
A sinking feeling of just how poor I got
Not in a physical since, but emotional one.
I am spent, I have been robbed.
Pockets picked clean by the fiend that is reality.
Just one of the many beasts unleashed on this unfortunate soul.
A soul sent solo to banish the evils.
But when people imagine battling their monsters, they picture themselves in armor clad.
Sword drawn and shield in hand, ready to slay the dragon.
But the truth is being naked with only a razor blade, facing a foe that has no tangible form.
Except in mirrors.
The only enemy I can sense is rooted deep within
Look far enough inside and all I will find there is piles upon piles of sin.

Time after time I've fallen short
And every time I've tripped, a little more dirt clutched to my cloths
My soiled self sits in my own filth
Along side the lies and farces I've collected over the years
like antiques that I couldn't quite give up
Sitting there, collecting dust, and becoming one with the scenery.
Why can't life go back to being as easy as when sticks and stones would break our bones but words would never hurt us.
You will never be good enough
You're worthless
You can't be loved
Generic but honest, the cliches put up a fight
So in defense I grab the only meager weapon in sight
And rip open the real demon within
How else can I make it pay
Silver slices etched in red on the skin.
Bleeding away the crimson stains of past regrets
The bruises and pains I just can't forget
A tally to keep score on an already carved canvas
Ten and counting more cant be far behind
But I'm too tired to keep running,
I
So I let them catch up
My energy is waisted on facing my fears and I succumb to the greedy caress of depression
Molested by the hands of sadness I let my diagnosis become me.
And my body becomes a boulder up a hill
Dragged down by the heavy bracelets that cover even heavier battle scars.
But who is really expected to win
when the battle is with yourself?