Day Two #poemadayfeb: Describe Something Without Naming It

Depression .jpg

And this is how it comes to me.
At first, the tiptoe of a sea mist,
unnoticed. A clandestine lover.
A fleeting chill across my skin
as light is hindered by shadow.
Soon it becomes fog, so heavy
upon my chest that my ribcage
snap like twigs underfoot and
I struggle below this pressure
that has blindsided me again.
Someone once told me about
a black dog, but I see only grey,
and then I wonder why they call
sadness blue, when blue is the
sky and the ocean and the cast
of his eyes in the morning light.
There seems happiness in blue
and I am but shrouded in grey;
bleakness, darkness, hopeless.
A blanket weighted with apathy;
I crawl further beneath and find
comfort in the crushing of bones.
I am too exhausted to overthrow
the dark, and allow numbness to
wrap itself around me, and if there
is anything to be more feared than
the black dog, it’s the moment you
pull back the blanket and invite him
in to make himself at home with you.

~ ©️ Kathy Parker // Depression ~

Day Two #poemadayfeb: Describe Something Without Naming It

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