Depression

By Peter Baruta

The depression in me strikes like a

lightning bolt.

It will never go away.

It’s like a nail driven in me by a

pounding hammer.

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

them there.

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.