Restless Depression

Laying in bed, yet I can't seem to sleep,
the depression that creeps endlessly seeps.
Into my mind, consuming my thoughts,
I'm hoping these ideas don't turn into plots.

Wanting to follow the plans that ensue,
from all the shit they've put me through.

They've hurt me so much that I am sore to the touch,
I'm damaged so bad, drugs used as a crutch.

A synthetic life, lived day by day
still I can't find the strength to pray,
I look up at the sky and see everything grey,
your looking to me for something to say
still rotting alone in my bed as I lay.