It’s depression. You can’t put it into words. You get stuck and time passes by. I’m stood there on the edge of a cliff, can’t go back and can’t go forward. Days go by. I’m still in the same place. Everyone else’s life goes on, but you’re stuck. You try and try and try and I don’t know how, but you came out of it eventually.Kell Brook
Hey gang! I’m trying something new today. On occasion, I find myself drawn to the art of poetry. Now, let me be clear. I am no poet. I don’t know anything at all about the rules of poetry, though I have taken a few classes on it.
I wrote my first poem in the third grade. By 5th grade, I had written 2 poetry “books” and been published in the local news paper. Then nothing, really.
I like to think that I use quite a bit of poetic prose in my writing but, other than that, the gist of my poetry writing is something scribbled in a notebook every couple of years.
Here’s the thing, though…I kind of want to share it. I put a lot of emotion in when I do write poetry and I would like for other people to read; in the hopes that they will identify and feel less alone.
If you hate it, let me know (in a kind way…I’m sensitive). If you love it, let me know. If it’s a hit, I might share more.
So, here is an ode to depression that I wrote today, because it’s been on my heart and I needed to get it out.
I’m tired from running.
Out of breath
We’ve been here before.
I flee from you and
I hide when I can.
I can’t let them see
But inside, you’re killing me.
Even when you can’t be seen,
I can always sense you.
Waiting. Looming. Menacing.
No matter how well I fortify,
You gain momentum.
I can feel your hot breath
On the nape of my neck.
Putrid and fetid.
Your shadow looms just behind me
Thick and suffocating.
A sick game to be played.
Once you catch up
I have to put on my mask;
The one that smiles.
Never show this chink in my armor.
They’ll use it against me.
Tarnish. My. Name.
But the darkness beckons.
I can feel the tears, stinging behind my eyes.
Threatening to fall,
a lump in my throat.
A made-up daydream becomes
Preferable to a painful reality.
The lure of sleep is strong
In my bed, I’m safe.
In my dreams, I’m safer.
As if my body believes
It can just sleep you away.
I have bad news for you, though.
You sinister, rat bastard.
You’ve brought me to my knees,
More times than I can count.
You’ve made me feel raw and painful;
an exposed nerve.
But you’ve never beaten me.
You’ve dragged me through the dregs,
Made me bed for the end;
Cursed me with the call of the void.
Your scars are deep and abiding.
But I will beat you back again.
You. Can’t. Have. Me.
You can’t have me.
So anyway, that’s that. I hope that you enjoyed it, that it resonated with you in some way. Let me know what you think, but please be gentle. You gotta let your girl down easy!
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Love and light. Keep fighting the good fight!