A Pox Upon My Soul

What depression feels like, to me, and my struggle to talk about, out loud.

Can feel it

Like a deep body sorrow

Spreading

Throughout my soul

With its toxic tentacles

Of tainted tears.

Patiently

It waits

For that moment

To drive

The stake in

Marking its claim

Upon my soul.

Raping my soulscape

In strip mining my emotions

With its emotional extraction

Leaving behind

Its mephitic tailing ponds.

For me

To clean up

Afterwards

Alone.

As I struggle

To find words

Which

I can describe this.

Orally

To you

Without hitting

That mental barrier

Slamming down

Whenever

I try.

Further

Isolating myself

From the world.

Worsening

This deadly mange

Which consumes

My soul.