On breaking up with my depression

Its not so easy to just

come out and say.
Its not so easy to put into
words, to scrape the
recycled phrases from my

Its not you, its me.

Actually, its you.
Its your sweetness
turned stale.
All the knives pushed into
my spine.
Its your tight grip
choking me.
Its your cruelty.
The sadistic
The snarl
The nail biting, hair pulling anxiety

you have supplied.
I’ve wanted to say this
for a long time but you have
a way of sticking around.
And somehow your words
and ill intentions
start to get tangled
with mine.

It just wasn’t meant to be
you see I just want to be free.
I’ve got more important
things to do, more books to read
more lessons to learn.

I cant spend all of my time
snuggled up in the destructive
nature you’ve kissed so gently with.
you’ve taught me to apologize for
my existence but
I’m not sorry.

This is the longest relationship
I’ve ever been in.
It isn’t the end of
I know you will come
back and weasel your way
into the cold
empty space on my mattress.
You’ll find your way back
you always do.


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