You ever feel like there are so many words you could be saying but just don’t know how to say anymore.

How many more metaphors,
Similes,
Personifications,
How many more different ways can I,
Explain the same thing over and over again,

I don’t know.

It gets tiring trying to write,
Because every explanation is at the end of the day too simplistic.
Too easy,
It doesn’t fully acknowledge,
The gravity,
The suck,
The pull,
Of the rabbit hole that is depression.

And how you wish that you could just provide,
A glimpse,
A look into your life,
Because no matter the urgency in your voice,
The despair in your eyes,
The idgaf attitude in your body,
The only way they could truly know was to live the life you’re living.

But how on earth could you,
Could I,
Possibly do that to them,
To even let them feel an inkling,
Of that hollowness.

That feeling of being a carved out pumpkin,
With a weird smile on your face,
And a small light inside,
That makes you somewhat alive.

And so now,

its almost like I can’t even care,
To try and describe,
The horrors inside there,
So I’m sorry,
But if you ask me what my depression is like,
My answer will be short and simple,
it sucks.