It’s very difficult to write
when you are depressed
when you know depression
isn’t fleeting
isn’t because something happened
but the same as
a piece of string
will get affixed to tree limbs sometimes
and despite all effort
not be able to get
free
O
I envy (you’re not supposed to envy, but I do)
those without this malady
the world would call them stronger
they may blush slightly and say
“aw shucks it’s a lottery isn’t it?
I could be just as glum as you if
my dog died, if my car broke down“
and in those instances I want
so much to say
nononono
that’s not it
at all
it’s crying on your wedding day
from pain not joy
it’s feeling strong at a funeral because
the wires in your head don’t fire right
it’s understanding you’re going to have to try ten times harder
just to stand and be counted
and even then
you may wish
not to be counted
because perversity
is the twin
of sadness
she breaks you into shards
snickering as you
flail to put things back
It’s very difficult to write
when you are depressed
when you know depression
isn’t something you can push through
like your MFA teacher bid
one night when you contemplated
cutting your wrists with broken pottery
almost on a lark when hearing; try to work smarter!
desperation surging unbidden
fast and dark like unfiltered coffee
always leaves its gritty mark
on the ennui of fileted souls.
(This is for all those who were ever shamed for being depressed and having depressive symptoms, for feeling they were ‘less than’ because they could not function seamlessly as others appeared to. I see you. You are counted).
Brilliantly written my friend.
Thank you 🖤🖤
Scars of depression are hidden and opaque
Like the feint strikes of a rattlesnake
This is one of the most beautiful and true pieces of writing I have ever see. I certainly hope to find it in an upcoming collection or anthology. Just because so many of your works are so stellar, does not give us license to NOT out and applaud each one that speaks to us. Brava, my friend. This will help many people who read it. It has already helped me.
<3
A deeply understanding poem
Thank you.
Thank you (my friend)
(xoxo)
Thank you. I am being published by Finishing Line in a few months, but this poem isn’t in it. I so appreciate you. Thank you. Thank you. My friend. We help each other by being there for one another when others cannot be.
Well said – but then it’s YOU so I am not surprised (friend)
Ah thank you dearling thank you
You’re so welcome my friend 🖤 🖤
‘cutting your wrists with broken pottery’
I read this as ‘poetry’ at first – ironic!
Brilliantly expressed and very much because of its truth. I hope that you are well.
Thank you so much my friend
Amen. Describing it to the (shall we say) uninitiated can be like explaining color to one born blind.
Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
TheFeatheredSleep – A different kind of darkness
The worst part being, there are so many who say ‘oh I’ve been depressed yeah it was bad I got over it in a day or two’ and you think – yup .. they’re never going to understand and without meaning to they’re always going to judge.
Alas, true.