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Depression - a slam poem


Poppy_

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The darkness left for so long that I almost forgot it held a permanent residence in my body.

The time I spent floating on clouds and singing songs was so tangible in my fingertips that I let myself believe the eviction took place and sunshine filled the corners you loved most. Holding hands and conversations so close to my heart while completely oblivious to your return date left me weightless and almost hopeful that normality could become familiar to me for the first time. Tossing bits and pieces of my heart out like candy on a parade float not even realizing that I was giving myself away for free to souls that remain unkept and nearly spiteful of the honey running through my veins. Had I known the hourglass was so close to empty, I would’ve left the walls where they belong because you and I both know the only way to hold onto sanity is through red lines of secrets and betrayal best displayed like trophies in this glass display case made from scratch.

I’m far too old to believe in wishing on elevens as if the universe decided it could hear the millions of secrets blown into the darkness all at once. How naïve to think that the exception to the rule was a scrap of human flesh formed into something no more recognizable than the soil beneath my feet because there is nothing housed in these brittle bones that holds any more value than the rusted penny you save for good luck. A momentary lapse in judgment led to thunderstorms in my wrists and bricks tied to my ribs and the only safety I can fathom requires a complete disappearance that no creature would even notice.

The hardest part is no matter how loud I scream or how much I plead there is no one coming to my rescue because aside from the utter lack of desire, no one can save me from you no matter how hard they try. I’m told that I am the only person that can save me but sometimes I don’t think I even have enough power locked in my depths to surrender that kind of control and my boat is slowly sinking and I don’t even know how to sail when skies are clear so how the hell am I supposed to stop the waters rushing in with nothing but a bottle of chemicals that make me wish it was all over for good anyway? Something about letting the water take over my organs almost becomes comforting in a way that water can wash away the bad and I think sometimes I believe that means it could wash away you too and I would rid you for eternity. But the idea of permanence frightens me more than your reality and I don’t know if that’s what they call hope but pulling the trigger has become less of a dream and more of a nightmare because I don’t want to lose the fireworks that have started erupting from my throat and painting beautiful pictures behind my closed eyes.

There are words I’ve yet to say and poetry I’ve yet to write and I don’t think I’m ready for the period at the end of my sentence because the number of firsts I’m experiencing is nothing but glee bubbling up from the streams that course through my limbs. The excitement I have felt combusting in my chest is so much better than any pacification with pain that I have ventured with and relied on. But still your voice is sometimes the only one I hear and there’s comfort in the familiarity of the sensation I feel when you run your fingers through my hair and tuck me in at night. The habitual games of hangman and tic-tac-toe we play together are things that I sometimes long for because the weight of your presence is one that I can trust more than I even trust myself.

It almost doesn’t seem fair for me to try to run away from you. I’ve tried that too. I’ve run through shin splints and cramped muscles and there are times that I swear I’ve worn through the soles of my shoes leaving a trace of blood with every step I take after that. But even still, here you are. Holding me, placing soft kisses on my forehead the way the sun does to the Earth. How could I not be in love with you when you love me more than anyone in my life ever has? You’ve always been here. Constant in your affection. Showing me that consistency is not some abstract idea but the construct itself is something so much more feasible than I have been shown in the past. Maybe all this time looking for a soulmate was in vain because you were here the whole time. Waiting for me. Proving yourself to me. Convincing me.

Maybe this is what I was made for. Maybe it’s time for me to fall in love with the dark the way rainbows love the water that cries from the clouds. Maybe fighting you was my mistake. Trying to rid you was where I made the wrong turn. I’m here now.

Fully and wholly yours.

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