By Claudia Kelly
Silently drowning hearing the voice’s festering each nerve, “Am Not Responding!”.
Family encouraging incarceration of my mind all route’s through now inaccessible and still i hold the pencil,
“Maybe Creativity Is My Vessel?”.
Despair, senseless sadness,
“In Your Arm’s May I Nestle?”,
“ Please Tell Me” these are the last of my tear’s and how the anxiety i may settle?
I hate the darkness it appear with such sharpness, sinking, am drowning, banished to exile and only through sleep, for year’s and year’s, deeper the water it knows my fear’s.
Loving me only but “Depression Is A Phoney”, tricking me into believing i suffer solely!.
But here comes the “Light” and thankful i am for it’s long awaited invite.
Not sinking, not drowning, well not until it next bites and i will always continue to fight.
Good “Mental Health” i claim as my right!.
Reproduced with permission, originally published here