My box

(Poem – depression)

My box.

Label marked depression.
A home I wasn’t born in,
But was forced to live in.

I had no choice in the matter.
It was never who I was,
But it defined me.

Beaten into submission.
Trained to preform.
Fate sealed and written.

Judged by definition.
I’m living in the Invisible,
six walled prison.

Tattered and broken.
Life’s suffocating,
And I’m choking.

Stuck in my box.
Airtight coffin.
Label marked depression.

(Want another? Read Self made prison)

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5 Responses to My box

  1. So sorry, honey! I'd like to break that box open and knock all the walls down! xoxo

  2. Eielofview says:

    You live there too huh? Sucky little cell, it drains you happiness, steals your sleep, pushes people away. Takes your will, you heart, fills your head with crap. I am sorry you live there to.

  3. 🙂 it can suck buy I enjoy a good battle, so I'll keep fighting. Roller coaster of life or something like that lol

  4. Eielofview says:

    This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

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