Depression is the Devil on Your Shoulder (And He is Always There) (9/10/14)

He is always there and he hurts me.
I kick and punch and slap and scream
But I am the one who has the wind knocked from them.

He is always there and he taunts me.
I paint pictures over him to hide his face
But he rips them apart soon enough.
I make pretty things and he takes them,
Raises his eyebrows at me and says
“Why? What is the point of this?”

He is always there and he holds me.
Comes to me at 3am when I cannot sleep
And strokes my hair like a lover
While he breathes monstrosities into my brain.

He is always there and he follows me.
To quiet lunches and crowded clubs
He stands in the corner by the bar
And as I take my drinks he grabs me.
“They don’t care,” he says and nods at them,
Friends standing by the table.
“I am the only one who cares,” he says
And leaves me there in the dark.

He is always there and he kills me.
Drains the light from my smile
Till all there is is a grimace.
He breaks my bones one by one
Until I spill my deepest secrets
To the one who I thought might vanquish him
The one who I thought might rescue me
The one who I thought might take me away.
But he laughs at my naivety
For nothing will keep him from me.

He is always there and he loves me.
He makes me promises that I know he will keep.
“I will always be right here.”
“I will always be with you.”
“I am never going to leave.”
All the things I thought I wanted to hear
But I’d give anything for him to be silent.

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