I taught myself To see my depression From the outside. It is necessary for survival. Imagining that I am separate From that "voice". That voice that is full of trickery. That persists, trying to cause my demise. But there is a fire within And I must attend to it. I must fight. I may lose a battle, But I refuse to lose the war. I've made my armour These many years. It is beaten up But still protects me. I gave up once. Never will I give up again. I will not make the suffering Be for naught. I deserve better Than to become a statistic. I am more than a number. I have a face. A face which contorts Under the pressure With lines of miles Reflecting the journey. I will take the beatings. I will force myself to get up again.