You're a dream
That crawled into my bed
And never came true

You're a laugh
          About to burst into tears

What you are
          Is vague
                And beautiful

Having Depression is like finding out that mermaids are real
It doesn’t make sense to you until you’re getting dragged to the bottom of the ocean
And then you think
Oh
That’s what this is
And I’m drowning now,
That’s just……… great
And eventually, with your last vestiges of breath left
You float back to the surface
And you’re fine.
And that’s it.
Mermaids stop existing again.
Because you never actually saw what grabbed you
You only felt the claws around your leg
The cold, clammy hands tugging
With a force that you could never fight against
But you never saw her
So it was all a dream
Right?
And it happens again and again
You are drowning again and again
Until the water begins to feel like home
And the only thing reminding you that you are alive
Is the burning in your lungs
And when everything you had balanced so very carefully starts falling
Off the shelves of your life
When your “mild” depression starts deciding it wants to be more
When being alone makes you feel dead inside
And when losing your cool for one ******* second makes you contemplate your own demise
When do you admit to yourself that you are slipping
You are sinking and just because you can slow your descent
Does not mean that you’re not still drowning
And at the end of the day just because it took you longer to get there this time
Doesn’t mean you aren’t still lying on the ocean floor
Devoid of light and sound
And if you had just climbed onto that now distant boat and sailed away
You’d be fine.
But climbing was too hard
And sinking is so much easier
And you’re scared that if you reach out
Your hands will feel clammy and cold
As they wrap around your friends throats
And drag them down with you
And you would rather rot at the bottom of an endless sea
Than let that happen
So you lie in darkness and wait
For a sound
The singular resounding sound
Of failure
And you slowly float back to the surface
Take a deep breath
And you’re fine.
Because mermaids aren’t real
It’s all in your head

it seems came her

adrift on mellow breezes
faintly scent o' strawberries

red dawn golden lashes  in rhythms
upon a meadow painted by
Emerson words and Van Gogh splashes

so lightly afoot
so not to spoil any of nature

listening
relaying

being
her.

Let's write like water
prose a tome so vivid in its
clear and cool
make fluid words that flow drip
down from gashes mountains pure
from eyelashes say clouds gush
every grain of sand dirt clod
of clay may bow down glistening
pump its substance from wells
drilled deeply into our hearts core
lakes of poetry filled with crystal beauty blue
but that is the sky coloring
its clear
right there in front of you
tension keeping her
round
about
see that tear?
it is there
on a cheek
in an eye waiting
to flow

I watched the moon kiss a sunrise —
through the fingers of skeletons coming back to life.
I saw it all through closed eyes open wide,
I wept dirt and flew down concrete lines;
I felt the embers in my lungs turn to ash outside.

I am nothing, darling, but insignificant —
I may not make history in my short time;
I may not remember when the fire completely dies;
I may never be extraordinary —
but for a moment —
for a glorious, aching moment
I was magnificently alive.
I was alive.