This is my depression

My depression is torn knuckles
It is hands scarred forever,
The marks upon my heart
They are a part of me now

My depression is a girl-now-woman
It is a teenager, who loved fiercely
And in turn was loved madly
But love can consume a boy-not-man

My depression is silent friends
It is loneliness in the crowd
It is rain in my hair, water in shoes
As I wander old streets, passing strangers

My depression is a dream fulfilled
That leaves me wanting for another.
It is achieving something great,
Great isn’t good enough for some.

My depression is finding love again
Sharing poems and stories, risking pain
Falling for an ember halo, and finding warmth
And quenching the fires of love she ignited

My depression is hours days weeks
Months years, and soon, decades
Of writing and scribbling delusions down
Imagining a world where time had not happened

My depression is sleepless at 3AM
When I need to be responsible for others
To act as a beacon in ignorance, aglow
Hoping to set anew the love to learn

My depression is ragged breathing
When I see a love from a life lost
And my body ceases to be mortal
It becomes an eternal moment in terror

My depression is the infinite cycles
In gazing what little I have rebuilt
and burning the world that has defied me
And standing among the ashes, despairing my victory

My depression is a child I failed
I saw myself as something in a future
That boy’s visions of glory are marred
By a weakness that came to be I

My depression is light spilling
From headlights that I stand in
As rain is painted as slashes in black
As night and rain merge into a memory

My depression is memories fading
The moments that make me
The harm, hurts, love and laughter
An identity defined by the lost

My depression is a hole, buried
Somewhere inside of me, unfilled
Expensive things and cheap drink
Fail to fill the void inside
This is my depression