I'm tired of fighting it.
The dark monster called depression.
I don't want to fight against it.
I would like to give in....
Eat until the pain is dampened...as if it ever could be.
Stay in the cocoon of my bed where it's quiet....as if my thoughts ever could be quieted.
Wonder all the whys for as long as I want....as if there will ever be answers
Find stillness and not the pressure of life....but there is life.
And I can't do those things...
I have to fight it.
Don't you think my hands look like an old meat packer's hands?
I call myself "Man Hands" sometimes like from Seinfeld.