Thin Barrier

Depression is always there once it consumes you, but when you finally come up for air and can hear the birds again and after the snow has melted it seems so deep underwater that you think, this time it's different. And it is. One thing I constantly tell myself is, "there is always coffee and the morning," and that little bit of reassurance, that small amount of control I know I have over this wild ride, makes it better.

This poem tries to encapsulate the feeling of how depression lingers. It's strange how even when your happy, you can sometimes feel the levels rise. Almost like being an anchored buoy as the tide is creeping up. Eventually, the buoy goes under.