Depression In A Nutshell

I need to vent,
let off a little steam.
There is on one here,
to hear my screams.

There’s no shoulder to cry on,
No Kleenex for tears.
No kind words,
just me and my fears.

My life is a myth,
unexamined, unknown.
Secrets in the depth,
of the grave that I own.

Don’t you wonder,
about me and my past?
Don’t you wonder,
why things never last?

I seem strong,
a hollow shell.
That is all.
Hell.

Why weren’t you ever there?
Why didn’t you ever care?
A few questions,
that would have done.

Make me feel better,
make me feel whole.
Don’t just say,
"I don’t know."