Existential Depression
Sometimes I feel none love me for my soul.
Everyone only loves me based on each role.
For a long time I am only but an empty shell.
I only play pretend that I am here and well.
Every time I was close to finally leaving,
My soul is brought back like lightning.
But I feel so hollow, with little to no reason
To hold on to as I go through every season.
Sometimes I feel if I do go, it won't matter.
They would only care if I were to splatter.
I am only so ordinary, no destiny awaits me.
For years I only want my soul to be set free.
Every time I nearly left this diseased body,
There was a fleeting peace, no more misery.
I fight my demon of depression every day,
But someday, it may finally have its way.
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