There she stood
still
despite the chaos
despite the buzz
despite noon time rush.

Placid alongside
the humdrum
the mundane
the same thing
over and again
over and again.

Day in, out
she seeks for reason
some meaning
some place
someone
something or other
to faze her
to move her
to take her
back to living
and not just
breathing.

She asks herself:
What good is surviving
the the struggle and pain
if she spends her days
for nothing
but ceaselessly hoping
for anything to happen
or at least,
to once again feel?

This is what I told her:
Sometimes the way out to depression
feels like becoming a whole new person
but this phase will come
and go
and so
embrace the process of healing
take your time and believe in
yourself and the waiting
will soon be over
and you will start over
another day
another chance
so wade in this circumstance
this inevitable consequence
of losing yourself
and then finding it
again.