chronosynclastic infundibulum My depression is a hole in the ground that slowly fills with water.
It's deeper than I am tall, the walls too smooth to climb.

If I am distracted by worry, inattentive to my path, occasionally I will stumble,
and down

Where I will have to sit with my fears,
treading water calmly,
waiting for the pit to fill and wash me gently over the side.

How bright the sun always seems to shine, when I am on my feet again.
ever dumbening anger is the poison, sadness the stone 020205
.<.<.>.> 'the walls too smooth to climb' - great line 020205
silentbob you dont know your ass from your depression 020205
Jane Doe Oh on the contrarry bobby, my ass is very recognizable as compared to my depression: I wear a mask; and only those here know. Congradulations! Lets be friends! 031207
unhinged and i will crawl inside it
and once again be content
pSyche not just any hole
it's my grave
and you oh-so-kindly
are helping to fill it in
falling_alone if my depression was a hole in the ground,
i would wonder and wonder, how far down does it go, for naturally it would be pitch black. and after days of wondering i would climb down, and would never climb back out.
what's it to you?
who go