In darkness I write

Once more I sit, completely alone,
In a place that I cannot call my home. 
Small and vulnerable is all that I feel,
Waiting for my heart to heal.
My spirit has been locked away,
Waiting to escape on a 'stronger day'. 
Right now I just hide inside my cave,
Hoping for my soul to save.
Fingernails have long been destroyed,
From the times I get lost in this void. 
Hair unwashed for atleast a week,
Is it a doctors help I should seek?
My guitar gets dusty and stands untouched,
What I usually enjoy does not excite me much. 
The sink is full and I am barely coping,
This depression will pass, I am truly hoping. 
Why cook food when it all tastes of dirt?
And why does my body continue to hurt?
I could sleep all day but never at night,
I never seem to miss the suns first light. 
Meds make me drowsy and uncoordinated,
My brain just tells me how much I am hated. 
I know this darkness will pass once again,
But for now I stay put in the 'comfort' of my den. 
 

Depressionmanic depressionmedicationmental healthmental illness

◄ Don't let me forget

The hurt of remembrance ►

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