Happiness Does Not Dwell Inside of Me

As I'm writing this, I have now realized that this is the third poem about depression that I have submitted to Associated Content. At this moment, I've probably submitted just as many depressing poems as "happy, shiny" poems. With poetry, I either write about the things I love or depression. I believe that depression is a very serious issue, I myself, have struggled with it for nearly a decade and I'm not ashamed to admit that. I believe that people should speak up about how they're feeling and they shouldn't feel ashamed to seek help if they need it.

Happy, I may seem, but happy, I am not.
Happy, I will never be,
no matter how hard I fight
or how hard i've fought.

I will always feel this emptiness
and in my heart it remains hidden.
To tell someone about the pain, sadness, and depression,
I feel would be forbidden.

And while happy is a thing
that for once I would like to try,
all I can seem to do is cry.

Sometimes I wish that I would cease to exist,
even though I would be missed.
But, wanting to disappear is often a feeling I later regret;
I know that I don't want to let down the ones I love,
at least not yet.

Happiness was once a thing that I would seek for,
that I have sought,
but for now, the little life I have left
inside of me will continue to rot.

Happy is one thing that I fear I will never be
and because of that I feel trapped and will never be free.
Sometimes I wonder whether I should just run
or if my life is a thing I would like to be done.

I know that these feelings stem from my depression,
and as good as I might be at denial,
I can honestly admit
that I haven't been happy in quite a while.

Happy, I may seem, but happy, I am not.
No matter what you see in me,
happy I will never be.
Happiness does not
and will never dwell inside of me.