The Art of Depression

I smile as I build up my fortress of webs,

I’m hiding from the hand of society;

From the look in their eyes.

I stutter and I fall

I scream the whispers that leave my lips,

There’s an issue with always pretending to be fine,

I internalize all the bitterness that I feel,

All the muffled cries that I echo into the night,

All of it

Hidden away from the world,

From you

From them.

I love too easy

I fall too deep,

I’m so unsure of myself that I doubt the fabrics of sincerity,

My imagination is made of dreams,

Colourful and bright

Happy and fluid,

They reflect the look I want to see in your eyes

I see flashes sometimes

Glimpses.

My mind is collapsing

Like those colourful dreams

It’s washing away into a foreign land,

And I’m just sitting here

Stranded at my desk

Surrounded by a wave of books and mess,

I’m fully aware that I’ll probably be like this forever

The wallpaper on the old dusty wall

Growing old

Alone

Growing old

I’ve never felt so cold.

You’ll go far,

You will go so far and I will cheer you on until you can no longer hear my voice,

And even then I’ll root for you

With my small aching smile and hallowed dark eyes,

I’ll watch you go far

And I’ll sit back against my dusty wall and stroke the dead petals that fall around me,

Then I’ll fall silent and still

Even if you don’t believe in yourself

I do –

With all my being I do.