Depression
Depression isn't something I like to talk about.
It always makes me feel small.
Depression can control me, for that I must be weak.
Surely I am no weaker than you?
Are you not affected by the soul-crushing darkness I have found?
You must be heartless.
If you don't feel it then, are you blind? Deaf? Free? Dead?
then that is how we differ.
poem by Jereldene Calvert

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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