the inside color of depression is no different than the outside


She watched the world evolve

without her, watched

it pass by and she didn’t wave goodbye

didn’t know how

forgot to see it with her eyes

saw it through her fear, her

entirety…she let it go…but not

because she wanted to,

she let it define and forget her

put her in a box

in the closet, away from prying eyes.

she remembered feelings

too late

couldn’t explain why




she saw emotions like shadows

a comic book

no superman, no heroes

in a graphic novel…only

sadness that she couldn’t contain

couldn’t hold back

had to give away



as it grew and grew…a never

ending gift

that ended friendships


she never saw it falling short

her depth

her blankness

a certain level, a sad wineglass

full of dark emptiness

she tried to drink it away

smoke it away, she

saw no reason for it

no meaning to it

no end to it

a definition of who she was, created

by someone else

she saw choices as

what other people had

like food she’s never eaten

but imagined

from pictures

words told to others




she does find

a certain kind of grey happiness

after acceptance, after a

forced separation—initiated within
unobservable without—from the external

definition she’s had

after feeling love
without condition from another,
a child,

she lives her days

again and again…yes



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