When people ask me what depression really is
Most times I am dumbfounded
Because depression doesn't have a particular description to itself
Sometimes depression is sadness, weariness and confusion
You just feel out of place -
so inferior and unwanted
Sometimes depression is smiling, laughing out loud and excitement
There's nothing to suspect
the perfect human to hang out with
Sometimes depression is dirty space, untidy room, dirty laundry
Piles of unfinished work
You see no exit out of the life there
Sometimes depression is all of these
Transcending from one to the other, confusing and unsure
You float like an empty boat on top of a river
And maybe there are other forms of depression
But one thing is sure
No one really knows what
exactly depression is
Depressed people know how to hide it
And they are sometimes bad at it...
Thank you for your time.
My pen doesn't bleed, it speaks, with speed and ease.
My tongue is like the pen of a ready writer.
Olawalium; (Love's chemical content, in human form). Take a dose today: doctor's order.