A Visit From an Old Friend Mr. Depression

Knock Knock

Who’s there?

Oh, hello old friend, back for a visit, I see?

I would love to say make yourself comfortable, but you did that for the past year.

Things have changed you say, I know.

And I know you’ve been lurking for some time, in the shadows, wanting to knock at my door, but couldn’t.

But now you finally have the courage to.

Or did you break in?

Or did my courage break, my chains and locks get weak, and I’m spiraling back to the feeling of nothingness?

I do not remember inviting you in.

Shall we go on memory lane?

I remember we were best friends.

Correction, my only friend.

Correction, you were weighing me down like an anchor on a ship, wanting to explore the sea but is chained at the harbor of memories and fear.

Correction, you were my master, and I was a dog with your leash wrapped around my neck, restricting my movements and going where you thought I should be.

You intruded my face, writing on it, so you were the thing people saw.

In my reflection, you were written all over my face, yet somehow I was oblivious to the writing until I tried using my tears to wipe away your ink and it just left my face unrecognizable to even me.

I couldn’t see anything but darkness, having to look down at my fingernails, picking at nonexistent dirt, so I could have something in my own control.

I think you should leave. No, I want you to go. I know you have my number to check on me.

When something doesn’t go my way or I am filled with frustration, my phone rings.

I try changing my number, but you somehow always find it.

And sometimes,

I answer.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community

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