It comes to you at first, slowly,
like a cold
It creeps up behind you
and threatens to swallow you whole.
Insecurities feed off It,
doubts are created from It,
no one understands until they have had It.
People think It is always caused by something,
that isn't entirely true.
only sometimes does It have a cause.
other times It doesn't have a cause at all.
It has many names,
none of which it deserves,
there is no way to describe it,
It is named but that means nothing.
YOU ARE READING
My Poetry
PoetryTrigger warning: depression, references to suicide and self harm. Don't read if you are easily triggered. Just my late night thoughts. Mostly crap, but oh well
