Depression

*_The errie enigma  surrounding the suffocating stigma_*

Depression : a mere word  that you enunciate  has psychological impact,

 that needs to be cured before it gets too late.

 Depression: A  Hostage for the sufferer  but a joke to the world,

Who act just like a mere comforter.

 they will ask , "are you in pain ? what is in your head?"

That  sometimes I wanna shout, " I have depression but I am still not dead!"

The emptiness  and paucity,

 make me insane.

 The lunatic world,

can never feel my pain.

 yes I get repungant,

 and yes I have lost my liveliness .

 but could you please stop circumspecting  my thoughts, in my head.

 cause I'm a human, who is pragmatically dead.

The  fabrication to smile, the social sophistication that I lack.

 the impeccablity to address,

Are still not wounded   to be bereft.

 They gaze at me and say, she's mad ,she has no brains.

No,  my dear not so depressed mates,

I am so glad  for you to encherish  my strain.

 I got tumult  in my head, and despondence  in my heart.

 the mere thought to be cheerful,

leave me again apart.

 I feel dejected,

 but now the feelings  so flail.

 I feel captivated,

 but the captivation is pale.

 I  try to abate ,

 in the absymal  of doom. but still the puke perpetrate,

 in the panoramic  to ponder , to instigate .

I hate to eat,

but I love to die.

 I hate to accept ,

But I love to cry .

I crave to creativity,

But  creativity is cringe.

 I love the lustre,

 but the luster has been Cursed.

 I jenuine to sanguine,

 and I decry to demure.

  I love to be withered,

 the feeling of hospice and  comfort.

 my bed is my lover,

 and my tears are my mere comforter.

  my pillow is my mate,

 and my blanket hides away the uncanniness of my gloomy fate.

 I seek to try ,

but the demise is hardened .

I love to paint ,

but the painting is darkened.

 Dear depression: is my partner in pain ,

Dear depression is a Soulmate of Solitude. Dear depression is like a coated cocaine,

 that tastes sweeter but that inhumanly entertain.

 I become silent to stereotypes,

Cause  I know I won't be able to fight.

 but still I love to live but the life is moving from lax to lumber,

 with snaggy glitches   and pain in thunder .

I cry for eureka,

 but I woefully loose.

  the aberration in my head ,

are also set up to fuse.

 Depression is not bad,

 it's just another illness.  yes ,yes ,yes my dear not so depressed mates, depression is all in my head,

 but my heart is still not dead.

Leeza