Can't you see she is drowning?
Her heart is sinking,
A Titanic heartbreak,
Broken in two,
Don't just sit there and watch the oxygen escape her quivering lips,
Dive
       In
          And
               Save
                     Her.

Let the water consume you,
Drag your soul to the bottom,
Anchor yourself to the seabed
And stretch open your arms,
If you can't fire the flare,
At least go down with the ship,
Let her drift into your embrace,
Feel the pulsating current tear away
All final thoughts of fear and insecurity,
Just stay there,
Linger in the abyss of the disheartened
And wait until your bodies are pulled from the waves
**And revived.

Those who are held back by depression are often viewed as 'miserable' or 'negative', but people really do not understand the fragile nature that these sufferers must face. It is an unconditionally delicate misconception, one of which that encourages society to hold such a stereotypical perception it can ultimately tip the scales and cause unfaltering chaos on the body, the mind and the soul. We are left to pick up the pieces of ourselves from the stone-like words that people throw at us, the icy glances when they see that we're trying to hold back stale tears that we were unable to release the night before and instead faced a daunting and relentless course of insomnia, the cold shoulder when we are desperate to breathe and release the demons that cloud our heads and our judgements in order to feel free again. It is unnerving to think that we must wander through life as shadows whilst others dance in the carefree sunlight of their ignorance. They are blinded by the sun rays of misunderstanding or lack of interest, they are educated but do not put their knowledge and understanding to the test and instead flee when the school bell of fear and commitment resonates through the hallowed halls of our hearts, our arteries, veins, capillaries, blood cells.

It is a tragic and petrifying truth, one of which breaks me a little more inside as each day passes.

A beautiful soul
who breathes compassion
and
articulates like **Sylvia

The car glides through the night,
The gentle roll between rubber and tarmac
Just inches beneath my feet,
Backseat dreaming,
And as each lamp post casts its amber
Gaze upon me through the fogged up window,
I begin to wonder how they stand there,
Through darkness,
Wind,
Rain,
Scorching heat,
Bitter cold,
And yet they still shine bright,
Throwing a luminescent sublimity
For hundreds of wandering souls
To find their way home,
To trace the tarmac veins of the city
Until they are nestled in the brick red hearts
of their homes,
And I sit here, a freight train of abnormally large
Thoughts passing through my fatigued and stretched mind
Whilst I am drifting under these street lights,
When I could be curled up in bed,
Sleeping through blissful dreams or stormy nightmares,
Eyes closed until another dawn spills over the horizon,
But then it occurred to me,

*I am a creature of the night.