A Poem About Depression: Let That Be My Last

Let That Be My Last

I fought and fought and fought
Both sides of the war within myself.
I heard the words “no” and “fight”
Flutter through my mind like butterflies,
Unable to find a safe place to land.
I wrote the word “don’t,”
The black ink drowning my light skin,
But it simply became the backdrop.
So finally I surrendered
Because I didn’t want to be a casualty-
The body of a youth dead, forgotten, lost.
But my plan backfired
And I smiled as the drops of red appeared.
Let that be my last.

I pleaded and pleaded and pleaded
With myself
To find something- anything-
To keep fighting for.
I made lists-
of hopes and dreams.
But they only reminded me of my former self-
The person I was before the demon came.
Or, before it made itself known.
I thought of my family;
I wanted them to pull me back from the edge,
But bolts of fear smooshed my lips against each other
And a plan was hatched.
Let that be my last.

I searched and searched and searched
For the emotion I have never known.
Or have I?-
And forgotten.
Or worse-
Not recognized it.
The frustration still leaks from my eyes-
I must call a plumber.
I checked on my attempts baking in the oven,
Blackening around the edges.
I missed the memorial service today;
It wouldn’t have helped my search.
Sleep was more important.
Let that be my last.

I held up my makeshift shield
But was still grazed by a bullet.
I wore medical beads- handpicked from thousands-
But they didn’t make me cherish life.
I spoke, and played, and tried to reach out,
But the ego ideal was on vacation.
I staid and fought,
Instead of running.
But look at me now-
I’m closer to the
Starting line
Than before.
So please-
unknownpotential unknownpotential
18-21, F
Dec 3, 2012