The Unspoken

Depression, like a dark shadow waiting to be seen. Lingering in the corner. Somedays completing simple tasks is equivalent to lifting a boulder. Why is it so difficult to complete the necessary, yet it comes so naturally to others? Do we fake it till we make it? Depression is the unspoken cobweb on the ceiling. You need to get the cobweb down, but you're too short to reach it alone and won’t ask for help. Accepting the help is just as hard as asking for it. Depression, like the rip tide waiting to pull you under. Do you refuse to sink?