My Tryst With Depression
My Tryst With Depression


Depression makes me feel like a diva.
I run over people's hearts like they are pieces of gravel on the asphalt.
Other times,
I howl like a lone wolf desiring the moon.
Dreams draw me to mystical islands,
A victim of my own fantasies, I give in.
Relief washes me in the form of sleep.
The bubble bursts and I wake up with my eyes wide open.
Pangs of hunger kick in,
Shoving food down my throat,
I satiate my growling stomach.
I hear muffled voices and silent whispers,
Questioning my own existence.
Feeling cornered, I demand answers from the self,
But all I can feel is a gnawing void growing every second.