“Stoical Depression” ( I’m a teenager and this is my first poem ever)

Depression has always been my state of mind

I daydream of the perfection I'll never find.

I live someone's established life vicariously

and forget to live my own one precariously.

The only thing that drives me isn't expectation

but rather the life of my own creation.

 

What is wrong with wanting to be on your own?

you think more clearly when you are alone.

I chose to be this way, so why am I so lonely?

I thought there were more people but perhaps I'm the only.

 

I push every single person in my life away

ironically for fear that they won't stay.

If this is heaven, I hope I won't ever know hell

is there a deeper abyss than this into which I fell?

If god exists I wonder why he made me this way,

He plays with my feelings as if they were clay.

 

Over the years, I think I unlearned how to cope

my regrets don't wash off, not even with soap.

I have tried, more than once, to clean out my closet

but I always end up making a new deposit.

 

My suffering seems to be put up for auction

but never has self-harm been a serious option.

I guess you could say I am the stoical type

for no matter what I do I never gripe.

 

I hide my feelings, I am a closed book

nothing gives me away, not even my look.

I hide myself behind an indestructible mask

and sometimes finding myself is a strenuous task.

 

I long for my hands not to be always closed into a fist.

I long for a person that probably doesn't even exist.

I long for any feeling other than sorrow.

I long for a far better tomorrow.  

1 | 2