I Battle Depression

Pool of filth. Congested; the entire world is congested. She inhales nothing but smoke, dust; nothing clean, nothing pure. She will try to take a breath, but nothing will come. Instead her lungs fill with poison, venom; hatred. Consuming pain, trauma; removing love, happiness, things she knows she is not capable of having. Her mind is clogged with this every day, and every night she will stare into the sky and hope that someone can hear her. She will whisper into the night and hope that one day she can breathe again. As she turns to go, she can see the world melt into itself. She closes her eyes, and lets the ground take her. She slowly sinks into the night, swimming in a pool of filth.