Who is this person, this girl inside my head,

who tortures me repeatedly and wishes I were dead?

Who whispers to me day and night about my lack of worth,

who curses me and tells me I'm not fit to walk this earth?

Who is she to say no one would care if I had died,

or if people say they loved me that they actually had lied?

Who is this wretched being who drives me to the knife,

who's taken hold of what was mine and now controls my life?

Who is it who will torment me until my dying day?

This person is Depression, and Depression's here to stay.

Found this among a bunch of old poetry. Thought I'd post it now.