A poem

Depression is a curse.
It’s a feeling, but a being, but something else
all wrapped up into one.
It writhes within and cries terror.
It’s dark, it’s uneasy, it’s what’s at the bottom of the lake.

It eats you from the inside out and
claims your soul as its King.
It tells you you’re nothing while it
parades around, making your home its.
It whispers in your ear.
It’s the Devil on your shoulder telling you to
Jump now or you’ll never be happy.
End it now. Run away from everything
and you’ll be at peace.
But it’s lying.

Photo Credit: Derek Rudy
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