A Hillsborough Community College Student Publication since 1978.
By Peter Baruta
The depression in me strikes like a
It will never go away.
It’s like a nail driven in me by a
The hammer is myself.
I pound ever-endlessly.
I pound until I bleed.
Why can’t I stop?
The nails are piercing, but yet I want
What are the nails?
Perhaps the pain I’ve caused on others
returning the favor on myself.
Maybe they’re the problems I have.
Depression will never leave my side.
It is stuck to me as I am desiring it.
Depression devours my every limb,
my every heart, my only heart.
It devours my soul, my spirit.
Never will the world understand my being.
I will always be alone.
Why is my heart so cold?
Frozen over by pain. Frozen over by pain.
Frozen over by tears poured over.
Depression is my new best friend.