"The Beast and the Black Wave"
I can't describe my depression. The definition escapes me. It consist of the voices, a bleakness that sucks at me, a pain that slices through me, a sensation of nausea...
Like a beast that stalks me, appearing at the corners of my eyes. The dark man, the ghost, the pillar of subzero air. It follows me around. It hits me at the back of my head, pins me down and holds me there. There's is no escaping him. A wave of darkness that engulfs me, and drags me along a sea bed of desolation in it's undertoll. I'm lost.
I thought love could pull me out of this. I thought, if i could break through to the surface, he would take my hand and save me. The distance between us is to great and i find myself fighting this torrent on my own, the forces slapping at my skin. He reels away from my hand, my claws emerge. I am my beast. I am the darkness. The black wave is my body. I am the despair. If my flesh could crawl, I'd run away from myself. I'm screaming.
Just let me go.
If he could love me, if could hold me down and be my light. I'd be alright. I'd go towards that light and bask in its warmth. He's be my gravity and the world would be less mad. I could muffle my screams, because i could hold on to him. I'd cease to float in the sea of desolation. I'd have an anchor. The waves would still hit me, but i'd stop tossing in the current. I'd have a bit of peace.
I dont want to be smashed up against the rock.
If he loves me, I'd be the siren. I'd still be the beast and I'd still be the black wave, but I'd be his siren, fighting against the pain. His love could holding me steadfast against the elements, against myself.
