The Four Ways My Depression Tries to Love You
First – this is not your fault.
There are these things inside of me that
have been clawing their way out of my heart
since I learned sadness.
And my sadness is high energy, high voltage,
Hi, love, I’ve saved a seat for you.
If you’d like to join me at the table I will welcome you
with open arms, but understand
that it hurts me either way.
Like this: either you sit to my left and I watch
my monsters eat you alive,
(first you, then me)
or you leave now, and I don’t even
get to hold your hand as I drown.
There are good days / when I want to disappear.
There are bad days / when I want to die.
When you ask me to live for you,
I say fuck you
But what I mean is
this is not that simple.
Thank you for dragging me by my ankles
back to the good days;
Thank you for crawling with me through the
dirt and the mud;
Thank you for sitting by my grave of a body
and never letting me bury myself alive.
By Samantha Brynn
Samantha Brynn is a born and raised New Yorker, with a penchant for sarcasm and using expletives in precisely the right place. She writes songs and poems about love she’s never experienced, and posts many of them on her blog: weaponizedlove.tumblr.com