Depression Again

The phone rang. Saying “Hello,” more quietly. Saying nothing. And the nothingness worsens over time. Times of hopelessness don’t exist. It’s just hopelessness. Not any particular time. Not any particular tear, or frown. I’m just some perfect circle, who is shaking imperceptibly. Nothing really happens. I am dead in a sparkly way. Now I am. Saying things about hurt, but I don’t think that exists. If someone asked my favorite memory? It would be me telling everyone about how sad I am. They would just stand there. You can’t know what they say. Just murmuring, maybe. People abuzz, whispering, making me happy with rumors that are real. I’m depressed and now they know. That never really happened. I still live, anyway. I won.