sometimes when i think of
living with depression
i think of my aunt
who is living with a dog
that jumps on the bed
and children who never stop barking
its kind of the same
depression is a bit like a fly
that's been in my house for as long as i
can remember
buzzing and humming and
right out of my reach
and when i try to swat it,
i end up hitting everything other
than the **** fly.
i spilled things, i broke things, i smashed things
and destroyed things and i tore
apart my house but i didn't
ever manage to get it
but never did it occur to me
that eventually
flies die.