Sometimes you physically can't get up.
It's like an elephant is on your chest.
It's like you're stranded in a desert
Without a chance to rest.
Depression beats you black and blue,
Then leaves you on the ground.
It tears out your vocal cord
So you can't make a sound.
Even my passions can't make me feel,
Nor can love bring me joy.
My life feels completely meaningless
Because I'm depression's little toy.
YOU ARE READING
In Darknesss
PoetryThis is a collection of poetry I have written on darker subjects such as suicide, death, self harm, etc. If this may be triggering to you, proceed with caution. Some of these were written in my stay at a mental institution where I was allowed a comp...
