goddamn it.

dry tears form behind my eyes,
another round of depression is forming--
i can feel it, see it, sense it
and i wish i didn't.
all that glitters is dull;
i hide in my room,
draw the curtains shut and
stoically watch the sun blend
with the sky to leave into the night--
anxiety plagues like a parasitic disease
that refuses to leave its host.

no amount of hedonism and indulgence
can satisfy me,
pity, pity, pathetic.