get through the day
just one day at a time
and if that seems like too much
too all at once
all loud and in your face
go by seconds
and then minutes
and then hours
make the in and out of
air in your lungs
a manageable thing

but there is no
clear map when it comes
to survival
because that looks different
for everybody
and a numbered list
could fill all the blank pages
but won’t you think of the trees

and when my depression
grabbed me by the throat
my feet left the ground
as the blueprints left my hands
the plan that i had planned
all neat and laid out
but an addled mind does not
care about that
because it is too busy screaming
and smacking itself against the floor

and sometimes survival looks
like staying up until it is
almost morning again
so you can rock back and forth
in a nest of your blankets
soaked in tears and sweat
sobbing till the line between
heaving breaths and puking
becomes more than blurred
because how do you tell
your family and friends
that you want to die
because it all hurts so much

and sometimes survival looks
like eyes sunken and glazed
shaking hands around a mug
of tea or coffee
with alcohol optional
but not much can mask the
acidic taste of panic
that comes with your heart
continuing to hammer against
your ribs

and sometimes survival
is all smiles
and laughing until you cry
and sloppy kisses
and laying in the middle of a road
on a dead end street with
the person you love most
and your hands are almost
touching and they are so
beautiful and you are alive
and it feels so good
and you are alive
and you are alive
and you are alive
and you are past the survival
and you are LIVING