A Dance With Darkness (Poetry of Teen Depression.)

Little Dark Monster. (Story)

Everything was bright.

It was for awhile.

I was happy.

I smiled like I meant it,

people noticed.

People were happy for me.

But something happened again.

I started to slip.

Something started pulling me down.

It would take me at night,

tell me I was safe in its arms.

I felt safe,

I let I take me in.

But the pain started,

I tried to break free from its grasp.

I held my head up high and tried to break free.

But it felt so nice,

so familiar.

I stayed there,

crawled back into its arms,

letting it put the blanket of pain and misery over me.

I felt safe,

but not joyful.

It doesn’t let me eat,

it makes me sick,

and it tells me

to take that knife

and hurt yourself.

Because it helps with the pain.

It tells me everything will be okay.

I fell for the act once more,

the act of my Little Dark Monster.