Thursday, February 26, 2015

Dancing with Melancholy

She's ill.
A hole in her heart that she cannot
fill.
As all the pills whisper, "Take me.
You'll feel more normal."
As all the people say, "Try to be happy.
Make your depression more subtle."
"If only it were that easy,"
She thought of as a rebuttal.

She goes to the therapist more than she goes
home.
When asked about her feelings, her mind turns to
stone.
"I feel trapped," she thinks.
"This horrible monster has held me captive.
Sometimes I think I've escaped, but in fact, it
keeps me trapped in.
I'm isolated.
Privacy invaded.
It goes through my memories,
and makes its presence stated.
This war - I'm losing.
This monster it-
It's controlling what I'm doing."
But as always,
Only two words squeeze through her lips,
"I'm fine."

In her room.
Experiment time.
How many pills can make her truly happy?
How much time will pass before she's finally free?

She looks down as her soul climbs up.
Depression, the monster,
was only there to haunt her.
Its cages were mere shadows.
Itself, a silhouette.
With a tempo of allegro,
She did a pirouette
But dropped to her knees,
So quick - so abrupt.
Out of all directions to escape,
She chose to give her life up.

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