Somber crashes down on me like the
ocean waves striking into the tide.
It’s rising.
I’m stuck in the current,
diagonally I swim, but a rope of kelp
latches around my ankle.
It’s pulling me in.
It’s bringing me in deeper into the darkest blue.
It’s thick. It’s gooey. It’s icky sticky.
I’m scared.
Only a painful sleep aides me.
And when I awake before my eyes fully rise,
I imagine
I’m free from my history;
I’m free of my name.
I feel a taste of happy.
A motivation of hope, but now my eyes are open.
Depression hits again.