So close… so freakin close, I almost got away with it.
Depression has now made contact with me…. Or I have made contact with depression, I don’t know. I feel its hand on my shoulder. I see its fingers. If it weren’t so black I could maybe have pretended it was someone I love rubbing my back. But it isn’t. It has made contact and I am not sure if there is any going back.
The black hole inside of me, sucked in the depression. In my lost state, I was franticly looking around everywhere for something of comfort. I knew I shouldn’t have looked over my right shoulder… I was trying to look at the beautiful but I failed – once again at life. This ‘being’ is the only one that responded to my screams. It spoke to me. So I looked. And now I am fucked – not in a good way.
I knew I shouldn’t have looked over my right shoulder. Now I might be in a depression, it is not just nearby.
I wonder if I run really really really fast… like the Flash, if I could outrun this strange black being with its bright white smile that is called depression. But depression usually comes with laziness, an extreme inability to move…. so I guess running really really really fast… like the Flash, is out of the question.
~ Becca ~