Depression

There is no music playing while I paint

No gentle hum when I bake

No orchestra flares when I see those I love

No drums beat when I walk down the street.

My life is silent, deep and drenching.

No echoes can form where no sound has been made.

My past is equally quiet and my future unbearably still

I cannot bring myself to sing and fill up the void

My teeth are clenched and my jaw stiff.

No sound travels in this vacuum.

But don’t worry the light does.

I’m cloaked in silence and when I’m not suffocated by it 

I can feel its warmth… a little.

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s