The Mind of Depression

pain is all I have.

it's all that's real to me.

the cuts on my arms,

a beautiful reminder of release.

the blood that pools around each fresh cut, glorious red and stinging burn.

the pain feels unimaginably comforting.

it puts me at ease but also frightens me to the point where I become numb.

simply concentrating on the burn.

it hurts only a fraction of what I feel inside.

the people who try to come close to me,

I push away because I am only poison to them.

making their life worse.

they do not need to worry over me because their worry is lost on me.

the concern they possess over me, it is pointless because in the end..

in the end all I feel is pain.

I am dead inside.

I want nothing from anyone.

why would I?

I have nothing to offer them but the torment inside my mind.

so I turn cold towards everyone.

they are confused by my behavior.

I really don't care.

they need to run from me.

I bring nothing but hurt to everyone I come in contact with.