Isolated, broken, and honestly alone.

A wounded warrior, skin is the warzone.

Such an ugly, dark disease.

Depression is the cloud above the sea's.



It's falling down a downhill slope.

Realizing that there's anything but hope.

Stuck in heavy, compact quicksand.

Others' walk along; they don't understand.



It's being locked in a metal cage.

Surrounded by deep anger, and rage.

Pain lies heavy, but feels inferior.

The ache all starts in the interior.



Being brutally broken beyond repair.

In the mind state of utter despair.

Suffocating and drowning in the extremes.

Hiding, but secretly bursting at the seams.



At question with the trauma of the past,

The flight, fight, and forgetfulness on full blast.

Lasting doubt, not making sense.

Through the hatred and pain so dense.



Baggy purple eyes from no rest;

From going through an vigorous quest.

Pushing through each agonizing day

Knowing the pain won't ever go away.



Being completely frozen in fear,

Wondering when death is near.

Gushing profusely on the floor.

Not having to feel like this anymore.