Reflection In Depression

A dreamer, words on the page. Perhaps I am the empty book, Pages begging to be written on, A chapter is coming, but here we are, Change and travel on the way. Fear of the change is slowly Replaced by the need to escape. Oh, escape! The need to run away and be free, A wild horse or a cat of some sort. A free, running creature, trapped Far too long inside the box, The box too confining. Words spilling out, a rushing of self onto this white, now colored page. Words, only swirls and lines and Drawings; how really is it you Understand? Rain, lovely, fresh and a freedom. I want to melt away into the rain, Pour out onto the ground and Spread out all over everywhere. To melt away and cling to you. I see you, outside, and I, as a raindrop, Would land on your face, The closest I’ll ever be to you. I’d stay, Love. You always hope they’ll come after you. To catch, ask you what’s wrong, Persistently till you tell. But they never do. Never care enough and If you die, It doesn’t matter. This, the greatest story, Is the cruelest of them all. The beautiful are ugly and Alone because they are Truly beautiful. The dreamers are given wings So that they will fall much farther And break far more bones. They’ll fall from the sky, Beautiful stars falling in the sky. The Beast has taken everything from me, And then given me a thousand false hopes. I’m stuffed full of false hopes. I myself simply am a false hope, Relyed on by other dreamers. When I break, then they Will fall as well. Scars, oh scars of my broken self, Feeding the Beast. There are no true friends. They are false as well, bridges Breaking slowly, and I will fall. I always do, having dared to Keep hoping. Friendships are impossibly Frail, but I continue to hope In those too. Hope itself seems to be a Beast. It is the worst liar. As is fellowship: I don’t actually Belong. It’s all just a lie. Each day is a lifetime, And a week is far too many Lifetimes for me to handle. Change, oh change, I once resented You but now I long for you, I beg you, please take me with you. I want to be a raindrop, lifetime So short but so full, With no regrets, Only a living of life. I wish you were here, All of you so lost to me Forever. No, false hopes, leave me. You were wolves and now You must leave the carcass To finish rotting. The ravens, that is, anything Else besides false hopes, Need their fill as well, And though you have Gorged yourself, There’s still some flesh On these bones To be ripped off and eaten, Destroyed.