This is more of a rambling then poetry I would think, but it still felt good to get these thoughts on paper so to speak, given an on going bout with some mild depression

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Seeking help to fix the cracks in my mask.
questions asked, met with silence.
loneliness creeping closer despite the masque.
cracks growing larger with each passing moment.
Emotions overflowing the only bestowment one of hate.
kicked into the cold for errors made.
back to the pit from whence I came.

each step growing heavy as each new burden is placed.
no one comes to share the load, leaving me to my fate.
one of despair, one of misery, one of unending mutilation.
each breaking crack revealing a scar left by the emptiness inside.
seeking an end, only for soul to fade, and heart to harden.
Who am I but a failure, each step made pointless, each step foreward ending in another trap.
Stealing more of my essence, how much is left? How long will I last?
What will be the trigger to destroy what I have become?
A whisper, as that is all I am.