vodka, tear chaser

 
depression has fangs  
it drinks from me  
giving nothing back  
except deadly black thoughts  
of giving in  
  
it makes me believe i'm out of control  
  
"you're already on the ledge  
you might as well jump"  
  
it provokes my pain  
stirring it up  
then leaves me to linger  
with no other voice but its own  
  
I would sleep it away  
but it's there too  
showing his face in my nightmares  
a reminder he never left  
and never will  
  
when I awaken I take a swig of his venom  
vodka on the rocks  
and a tear chaser  
  
sunrise hell, nighttime torture  
it's all very cliche  
my human frailty  
  
nothing unique about it  
except it's my bastard  

I bare it in agony  
bringing my own brand of tragedy  
into the world