Wrists are for bracelets not cutting

I am not nice.
I am not kind.
Like all other poisons.
I fill your mind.
Who am I?

I am Depression.

Dark takes over light. Bad overpowers good. Cutting substitutes crying. Has there ever been any joy in my life?

If everything inside of me is telling me you're not sorry. Then guess what mom, you're NOT sorry.

When you pretend everything is ok don't you know it kills me inside.
It's not ok. It never will be.

Can't sleep nor hide I want to disappear to dissolve into nothingness where no thoughts can reach me and then maybe, just maybe I can be at peace.

One little cut turns to two, then three. Soon you find yourself unable to stop in a desperate attempt to end the pain.

It hurts. Why, you ask? Because you stepped on it, picked it up, ripped it apart, taped it back together and tried to pass it off as a heart.

I'm gone it's too late there's no saving me...but wait, maybe not; maybe I have a hope, a chance to be saved, to live instead of exist....but....that's a big 'maybe' that 'May' never 'Be'...

Pain galore and more to come.
Pain that heaps and eyes that weep,
this is me, bared for all to see.