Poetry

Depressed [a poem]

Cycles and cycles I dragged myself, circles and circles my thoughts sprang, under the circle I finally stood, not sure what I think.

My thoughts were skyrocketing, emotions heightening yet, I was unable to wrap my hands around what exactly was wrong with me.

Filled with emotions I isolate myself, driving myself into the arms of loneliness, paving the way for yet another round of emotional instability, with no thoughts on how to control it.

In the dead of the night I stood, under the imaginary circle of the sky as the moon performed its magic on Earth, my skin brightening forth as a result.

Alone and lonely I stood, maintaining my posture in space, cold bathing my skin surreptitiously, goose pumps emanating as a result.

In the dead of the night, in the silence of her abode, in the midst of my depression, I let out my emotions. Tears flowing endlessly as I wept, my shirt soaked in tears yet, unable to ameliorate how I feel.