Today is the day I feel a joy I didn't expect to come so soon. A joy that lets me know that I'm gonna be alright despite the fight I've fought with clenched fists. This is the day I break out and dance to the rythm of a restored heart, a clear mind, and a pure spirit. I've made effort to clean house and I must say, the dust is starting to lighten with each sweep of my broom. Sometimes though, I don't want to sweep. I want to keep the dirt between my toes, want to sulk over friends that turned into foes. I want to smell the rot of loss. Cause sometimes you don't want to care sometimes. You want to flip the flapping bird into the air when someone takes the peace you pieced together. They scramble it like a puzzle just as you're about to put that finishing piece in the center. Your happy home turns into a deck of cards laid out. You've got 52 attempts to pick up yet again. Can't fumble, can't drop a single one or square one is the only way like a game of Monopoly. When emotions flood at the gates of your mind, you are taught not to cry. You gotta hold it all in like a barrier buckling tight. Fight those tears and sent them back into the ducts, can't cool off unless isolated in complete silence. Well I ain't afraid anymore to let my feelings wet my face. I ain't scared to scream in frustration when things don't pan out. I used to sizzle like a skillet, hiss like a rattlesnake, even blew my cork like the sweetest bottle of Rose tormented to cheer in times of danger. My heart, I froze that, my stare was that of a cold shoulder that had returned from a trip to hell, you know, that part that freezes over when somebody got you fucked up. My shoulder chipped as I struggled to turn a new leaf, tried to leave behind what had fallen and changed, only yo turn a pethora of colors before settling blue. I was blue. Subzero had nothing me, neither did Scoprion when rage was the weapon I settled on. But enough of that bullshit cause look at me now. Look at the outcome of pain. This is for everyone shining after thunder struck you countless times. This is the poem you speak of should the topic of depression come up. Should weep and wallow, swallow the "woe is me". Careful now, don't choke cause you got a lot of life left in you.