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Mar 2020
It is at my happiest that you creep in
With your sour face and gentle words
Though I pull from you in protest
You still force me to dance

Led out onto the forlorn floor
Where you put your hands on me
You grab my waist
And ****** my hand to yours

The somber music plays
And the tears dance down my face
You smile and smirk with delight
Because you love to see me cry

Each time you spin me
You remind me of what I am
Each step with yours
You tell me what I can never be

We’ve danced this dance so many times
I know the steps and the cadence
I pull and resist every time
Yet to no avail, I’m forced to step

At least the song comes to an end
We stop and you stare at me
Satisfied with my red and wet face
You smile at me that empty smile

When you are satisfied
You drop me to the floor and leave
I grip my face and dress too hard
Forced to wait for the next dance
Depression sometimes feels like a dance that you can never avoid
Kristina Weeks
Written by
Kristina Weeks  23/F/FL
(23/F/FL)   
141
 
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