Depression

I think it's coming back.
Crawling slowly.
Going in.
Getting Deeper.
I crawl away.
Hide forever.
From the ones who care.
From the ones I love.
If this is how I'll die,
I don't want to let it last.
The ones that can help.
They talk to me.
I don't think they can do shit.
When they help,
it's going away.
Crawling faster now.
Going out.
Getting Better.
I'm healed.
From emotions.
And a feeling left undescribed.
It's hard.
And worse then anything before.
I hate it.
But it took over my life.
And I think it's coming back.