It cuts deep, that serrated edge bleeds droplets.
Dripping at my feet, curdling, coming to life.
It is the only way out.

Taking shape, Its face stares back at mine.
Red, demonic, laughing, what is this?
What am I doing? I am not in control!

It laughs, I have you now, forever bound,
Blood is my name, cleansing will not bring you fame.
Fade to the darkness and submit to me.

I will consume you in life and in death you will never escape,
Eternal pain will be yours, fated as you are!
Your blood is my life, your death is my rebirth.

Extinguish the flame, I dare you.
I will consume someone new.
Your escape will set me free.

Bleed just a little more,
Drip drip on the floor,
Consuming nothing more.

At the brink of the abyss, I realise something new.
I cannot begin to burden you,
I fight to keep you free and protect you from the demon in me.

Keep your distance, keep yourself.
Protecting you from my demonic self.
I will not bow out, I will not give it control.

Its voice rages on, urging me to let go.
But, I…can never let you know,
About that demon that consumes our mortal soul.

Drip drip, I am aware of it now,
At the void I see what I am meant to be.
Not a martyr but a warrior of life.

The wisdom to see beyond,
To keep the balance, the rhythm of life.
Locking away these demons one day at a time.

Suicidal thoughts come in many forms, the processes vary but ultimately the battle is the same. Often, having been on the edge I do wonder what it would be like. To be free, to let go, the eternal darkness, the void. However, I realise that in giving up this fight, it wins, they win, bad beats good, darkness over light. Maybe, maybe I was meant for this, to fight, to hurt so that you don’t have too. To see what is to come and prepare you for the struggle. Who knows, truly, depression is fraught with all sort of beliefs, biblical, mythical, scientific…but there is some comfort in believing that I suffer so that you don’t have too.

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