Depression Compression
WHY IS IT PUSHING DOWN ON ME?
Crushing dreams,
Pushing schemes,
and interjecting through my tear-jerked pleas.
They are the constant reminders of detached lies
and the sacrilegious ties that choke me out.
Lying flat on the ground,
rambling on with unsettling doubt.
Mumm, the angst of it all,
cultivating fields like envelopes collapsing,
it becomes too heavy of a mist to see through.
Suddenly, I am relapsing.
Not long ago, I became the sleepless,
dried up tears caked upon my cheek,
yet smiling inside a distant scheme,
I sank further on this whimsical thrill and seek.
One sip, swallow, two sips, then more,
my psychiatrist kept prescribing them,
the hieroglyphs carved on the crypt's call,
folded in half, inside the traitor's fall.
Talking to four walls and an empty chair,
my therapist kept on the chatting,
repeated verbiage and phrases with no empathic reasoning,
silence became my sanctum and my mind's own seasoning