Overtaken

July 7, 2017
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I’ve lived with depression my entire life
Cackling witches and ghosts were not my nightmares
Because how can you have a nightmare when you are already living one
I didn't tell anyone
When I spoke at all my words spit out like ashes from a raging fire burning anyone who was near me
I didn’t share
Cause I am not blind enough from reality to see a trap laid out for me to fall in to
I didn’t share
Because my words followed a story that was already written

When I lied, When every syllable I spoke flicked off the end of my tongue having no meaning
I didn’t do it to hurt you
I wasn’t pretending when I said your speech was comforting,
comforting like a drop of water on a welting flower
You relieved me,
but you didn't quench my thirst
I don’t blame you for that
I didn’t mean to lie but after a while it became a habit making sure I covered my words with sickeningly fake plastered smiles and enough makeup to hide the face I wanted to show
They say practice makes perfect
I became to good at a game that I set up for myself
You were playing for a while but when you didn’t want to anymore I couldn’t bring myself to put it away
to store it with every mask I had
I couldn’t. 
I didn’t mean to not listen
I was too tired I was too done, 
I didn’t mean to not see
My eyes could not see farther then the darkness I was living in
And I’m sorry for that
I didn't mean to not have the strength to keep walking forward
to stop looking back but I was winning I was where I felt at home and even your glowing light couldn’t take the place of everlasting gloom settled all around me
I did not mean to hurt you
Depression is not just a face I wear but a voice I hear
Those were my witches I can still remember the scratchiness of there voices
I can still hear them controlling my life
I was stuck in a room full of glass
I had an inch to move, an inch to breathe I couldn’t
I tried
But i was fading quickly getting devoured by the questions
What to eat
when to stay
when to go
But I noticed that “why”  was the biggest question
They kept me in a chokehold giving me barely a millisecond of time to think about the word that had one syllable, and I didn’t know why
And I’m sorry I didn't know why
And if I can ever know why
I’ll write it over and over I’ll paint it across the locked doors and brick walls that are my life, my existence
My brain
I'll share my why with you
Cause then maybe
just maybe
the question that is “why”
Will be answered






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