Depression

Within my own broken self
I look for hidden parts of you.
You, the destroyer; I am your victim -
For now, at least, our roles are reversed.

I climb the steps to the top of a fountain -
The imaginary steps, the ones we invented;
And I reach the fountain that never existed,
To drink from its memories - torn and twisted.

Do you remember how it all started
On that fateful night not meant to happen?
It happened though, despite all odds -
Its pain enduring, its memories blurred.

No longer knowing what’s real and what’s a dream,
I crawl through the day not daring to scream.
With one wish only - to reach the night,
So I can beg it for shelter and a brief respite.

The imaginary comfort of welcoming darkness,
A cruel illusion that inevitably shatters
As soon as the first beam of all baring light
Casts a fierce spell with all its might.

Thus I’m left with another day to crawl through;
With promises that are fantasy - none of them true,
Longing for the arrival of the merciful night
With its false comfort to sleep by my side.

Copyright:  Nara Hodge 2018
 

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