Beginning like every other day,
my eyes open reluctantly.

Dragging myself out of bed,
it is time to face the silence.

Another day to manage,
still attempting to survive.

Wondering why it is,
that I get out of bed at all.

Those who are not a victim,
to the tight hold of depression,
cannot fathom the meaning,
beyond the syllables.

Even the truest descriptions,
cannot paint the picture,
in it's entirety.

To say, I feel empty;
could never explain enough.

To cry, bearing pain;
could never release enough.

To scream, with frustration;
could never show enough.

We smile, in hope that it helps,
to not bring those down around us.

As we breakdown repeatedly,
we are always lost within.

A burden; is an understatement.

Depression is like a cancer,
embedded deep into your cells,
draining the life from you,
with little hope for the end.

For no reason, other than love,
do I face the day and try again.

If I did not love those in my life,
I would not get up to be there.

Still, I try my absolute best,
to do what I can for others,
knowing there is nothing,
they can do to help me.

· · · – – – · · ·

Stardust drips
in Southern Cross directions
lost at sea
floundering in the nothingness
counting seagulls
and island torches
branding the sky
with delirious connections
traveling beyond the speed,
22 knots to nowhere
and sinking fast

SOS carved
in summer clouds
threatening distractions
floating silently in our heads
as we bail out,
tossing salt water worries
overboard as
barnacle beliefs wait
beneath the surface
of our dreams

A lone timber,
nails protruding,
rotting slowly
is held for dear life
as tridents and trishulas
flail in withered hands
breaking seas,
angry waves bend
dissipating into
misted blankets as
foghorn signals
bellow in needled warnings
like a skipping album
drowning in its
own repetition

When I was small
I walked on fairy dust and
my dreams were as tall
as skyscrapers towering
above the universe
inside of me, was the galaxy.
I was born of the cosmos,
full of light and love
passionate in my quest to
give this to others.
But as I grew my star began to fade,
stars need love and light to survive
and deprived of both my blazing fire
transformed into weak candlelight.
At school I had learnt it was easier
to hide your light
than to stand out as different
and be extinguished in an instant.
So I kept myself to myself
at the back of the class,
knowing the answers but not
shouting them out.
I daydreamed, and doodled
stars on the corners
of my books, all the while
I could hear the universe
calling out to me to trust,
that we are all born of this
cosmic stardust.

I stood on the landing
Mouthing words to your friend
When you charged up the stairs
Screaming “Then one of you must be dead!”

I looked at him, at you,
At the pallid wonder in your eyes
When I took that first step
Backward and upward and out
Into the thinning air,
Felt the blank relief of weightlessness.

I floated softly onto the stage
Into a play with trumpets.
Only a rehearsal, the theatre empty.
At a signal from a bald man,
The chorus held its final note.
I had arrived.
They relaxed and the purple curtain fell.