What a sadistic creature depression is.
It recedes just long enough
to make you believe you might
actually be winning for once,
then it returns with a vengeance,
fangs glistening,
and within days it has you
under its control again,
trembling at it’s fingertips.

I should have known.

The demons know.

They knew that after fighting so hard to get better,
I would be too tired to hold them off.

Suicide is on my mind again,
and I’m starting to wonder it ever really left.

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