Depression

A silk sheet of black covers my head while I am sleeping and seeps into my skin, Reaching my brain and interrupting dreams that are far from reality’s reach. Slowly, surely, on soft feet. Creeping up on me, unexpected. Chasing me through dark forests that once held flowers without thorns and birds that sang on the many Sunday mornings of spring. Heels sinking into weak, helpless soil as it gives in to the pressure that pounds upon it again and again like a never ending migraine. Toes scratched and bleeding from sharp, jabbing rocks that hide themselves and wait for their next victim, And leave them with scars to line their flesh. At night the hurt will sit with their legs crossed tight underneath them as if they are protecting them, And their cold fingers will trace the scars upon their toes Over and over In a rhythm, a melody of sorts that only sounds beautiful when it can be understood by the ones who know it best. I turn corners and pass trees that loom over me, Old and wilted, Threatening to fall on top of me and crush me So I am molded into the ground below it, And no one will find me because no one cares about the trees that fall, Or the plants that die, So why would they look under the fallen tree to find another girl, Lost and thrown away in the process of trying to run away? They chase me still as I run so fast that my legs want to detach themselves from my body and leave me lying limp. Leaves fall into my hair and the thought to pull them out does not occur to me as the soil squishes between my toes, the wind stings my eyes and ears. Every time I look down, Beneath me seems to blur, and I cannot see any of the branches that threaten to trip me as they know what I am running from. I will fall and be stuck as weeds wrap around my ankles and wrists and prevent me from rising back up, They will hold me down as if I am a child throwing a temper tantrum, Restricting me from kicking and screaming. They want it to catch me and take me away, To conquer me, Control me. But maybe, In a way that is unknown to me, A plague that infects my body piece by piece, Maybe it already has taken over.