Wandering Spirit

What it feels like to have re-occurring depression

I wear despair 

as a second skin.

I wish I could escape,

but no matter what I try-

It clings to me like an evil spirit--

it just won't let me go.

It's way too vicious-

it's barbs have sunken so deep

that I'm afraid to pull them out.

If I do, 

will there be anything left afterwards?

Or is it the glue,

keeping me from flying a part at the seams?

Has it been too long?

To the point where it's fused into my bones,

becoming my life's blood?

If it were to leave, would I become a hollow husk?

Part of me,

is to terrified to dare chase it away,

In case it steals and breaks the remnants of who I am

.....but the other part....

The one I hide away,

behind may locked doors

like a precious object....

one that is too shameful to let others see....

is completely and utterly helpless.

It whispers in the dead of night,

all of the things I'm too ashamed to face in the light of day.

If it were possible, 

I'd wish to gather those things neatly in a box & bury them

deep within a forest,

in a place where it could never be found

Although,

 my wishes are nothing more than smoke-

no matter how much I try to get rid of it-

the scent lingers.

I wonder....

just how long I will keep wandering this treacherous road?

It's a familiar path,

I swear I've traversed before,

 leaving obvious bread crumbs for me to follow.

As I stumble and stagger my way...

those same things meant to lead me-

are instead my stumbling blocks.

Deadly traps that I always seem to fall into- 

without fail.

My eyes are no longer able to see....

but I'm not quite sure what took away my sight.

Was it something natural?

Or was it man-made?

Perhaps....it was self-inflicted?

I can no longer tell

I reach out-

feeling my way around-

but no matter how long or far I reach....

I can never seem to find a helping hand.

I may have wandered so far,

so deep, 

to a place no one else may reach.

To a place where....

no compass can point me on my way....

This path has had many dangerous twists and turns and

many dead ends.

It's not so abnormal 

that even if one could see.....

It wouldn't make much of a difference.

Even the traps sprung,

like a predator stalking its prey-

totally unaware-

until it's too late for it to flee.

Do you know....?

Well, it's impossible to say

Even if I COULD make my way out...

Would I be able to shake this vengeful spirit haunting me?

Or will it continue its voracious appetite-

hell bent on devouring everything in its wake?

Leaving nothing behind but devastation and destruction

I can feel it eating away,

piece by piece

morsel by morsel,

It's appetite seems to never wane,

I wonder just how much more it can eat?

You'd think after 17 years,

it would have devoured everything completely by now

But still....

it always finds more to take

Author's Note

Constructive criticism is always welcome