Depression

No sleep, the pills I pop my veins dance 
with lust, it's a must, my depression grows deeper, 
redefined my art, my heart black as tar I have grown apart, my bones de-attach from my soul I have seen souls..

 My depression seen holes, why must I cry? 
My tears dried out years before I came out.. 
my future was planned from hand to hand... 
My depression, my depression, my depression has no name, I have bent over for the devil as he whispers , "open up" my heart grows weak.  

My breast sink , my eyes red with blood stains, 
come dance with me as I dress up for the 
ball, as Satan calls.
 I've lived through the pain and anxiety grows
 deeper, my lungs fill up with smoke Satan puts
 his hands on my neck I choke.  

The nights young as I pull the trigger ,
 I pull my head back ;open my mouth ;
 pull the trigger but dust comes out.. I live...
  I drop to my knees as Satan's pleased..
 the pain still there I'm running out of air ;
 but still I live... 
My depression
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

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