Dear depression,
What would you have me do? you came unannounced into my life and created for yourself a very comfortable spot in the deep pit of my left wrist. I did not like you at all, you came with me wherever I went, even when I was watching the sunset you’d be next me and you’d remind me of your dead presence.
Eventually I got accustomed to you being there all the time, it was as if you were a part of me that somehow swallowed the whole of me. You’d make the wind rustle and glass shatter and I’d just watch. You’d also make me bleed oceans but I’d still just watch you do it all.
Some nights I’d drown you into the bathroom sink while seeing myself in the mirror and it felt as if an entire graveyard was looking at me.
I’ve tried so hard to hide you behind ivory smiles, full sleeves and lavender essence but you now live in my eyes, that’s your home and you’ve coloured it sombre. You’ve also managed to colour my thoughts black and my thighs blue.
I did absolutely nothing to push you out and I let you seize my home, instead I watched you do it all. You’ve ripped my whole being and now I am just your shadow and your silhouette. No one really blames you, I don’t either. The blame is totally on some people or the medication or my general craziness.
My purpose of writing to you is that I want you to just leave because I am not strong enough to fight against you and I never have been. But I guess that letting you go is just as hard as leaving for you is. You are now all the metaphors in my poetry, a deep black me and something ugly. I sincerely loathe you and I curse you to eternity but I do not know how to just drop you off my house.
You have left me with no choice, you are like that ugly childhood trauma no one can forget. You are confusing and obnoxious. You are a scar. You are my young tears. You grow up with me and root yourself deeper into my heart each year. You are bad. but you are still me…
with love/loathe.
