Every year you say to yourself,
This year will be different.
I won’t let the darkness get to me.
But this darkness is not metaphorical.
It’s very real and very physical.
It surrounds you, oppresses you,
And you can only hold out for so long.
Eventually, it gets inside you.
It suffocates your sanity,
And smothers your joy.
You feel yourself withering away,
Like a sun-starved plant,
Wilting in the dark.