My Tryst With Depression

Depression makes me feel like a diva.

I run over people's hearts like they are pieces of gravel on the asphalt.

Other times,

I howl like a lone wolf desiring the moon.

Dreams draw me to mystical islands,

A victim of my own fantasies, I give in.

Relief washes me in the form of sleep.

The bubble bursts and I wake up with my eyes wide open.

Pangs of hunger kick in,

Shoving food down my throat,

I satiate my growling stomach.

I hear muffled voices and silent whispers,

Questioning my own existence.

Feeling cornered, I demand answers from the self,

But all I can feel is a gnawing void growing every second.