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Lost Battles

The cancer that is depression

My fingers wrap themselves around the cold glass
I’m always searching for warmth in icy places
Effortlessly, I smile at her; she buys it
I have perfected the art of selling happiness
 
I stare down at my glass
Past the whiskey into my thoughts to bring it up to my lips
I realize I’m not scared anymore
I do not turn up my nose in disdain
I pray it hurts, I pray it burns
 
I close my eyes
Willing myself to drown in the music
I see all the little pieces they stole from me
And all the ones I gave away after that
Hoping to find solace on rock bottom
 
He leans into my ear and unforgettably whispers,
“Not today my dear
I need to build you up first
Put the world on your feet
Till you feel everything is within your grasp
And when your laughter is no longer laced with pain
When you are certain of your next breath
When you are snug in the light
And I become but a distant memory
I will meticulously drag you back inch by inch
I will break your spirit piece by piece
And leave enough of you to keep you believing
Howbeit this is not a fairy tale
There are no happy endings where we are going”
 
“You are so quiet tonight,” my friend shouts over the music
The sweet traitor running in my veins dares me to speak
I open my eyes, he is by her side, but she does not see him
 
“Careful,” he says to her with his devilish eyes transfixed on me, “once you push that button, there’s no going back
This will end in two ways
The tragic loss of your sanity or the catastrophic diminution of my reality. You still want to know me? Bring a light, before my darkness swallows you whole.”
 
I stare at her wordlessly
You too would be quiet if you knew where I am going
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