Me

Why is everything so fucking hard?

Everywhere I look
I am overwhelmed
by what seems to be
expected of me
but which I fail
to interact with
in way that seems to be the design
of the human race
in the infinity of the universe.

Words can't describe
how much I hate
this life
this world
just how much hate
and loathing
is inside me.

Selfish

Depression is selfish.

It steals your view
of the outside world.

It stands between you
and the people in your life
and laughs as they, too
fade away into the distance.

It holds your gaze
so your can't behold
the beautiful parts
of the world
as they pass you by and by.

It trips you over
and kicks you when you're down.

It won't be reasoned with
but it loves to argue
and to spend countless hours
convincing you
of the futility
and the pain.

It is cold.

It is hungry.

But most of all,
it is selfish
and it consumes us
with the might of the power
that we really have at our own disposal
although we can't see it
because depression is so, so selfish.

Not Possible?

Constantly haunted
by memories of images
I have never seen before.

Dreams
melding with reality
so much so
that it's hard to tell
one from the other.

Yet the scenes appear so strong
and the people so real
that I find it hard to believe
I don't "really" know them
and am drawn to think
about alternate realities
and the ability of the human being
to day walk between the two.

Who's to say
this is not possible?