The pain is all I can remember.
The pain that gripped me,
Held me under my blankets
And no matter how much
I wanted to
I felt there was no way to crawl up
And out of bed.
Every movement I made was
a cry for help.
Every sound I made,
a scream that failed to crawl up
My throat
I Looked to my friends
My “friends”
To save me from myself
Their honeyed words shrouding their basilisk tongues
“Hush”
As if depression can be remedied
By “Don’t worry”
“Just be happy.”
Panic struck me,
I screamed
I cried out
I begged for my rescue
My lungs burning
My limbs quaking
The crowd of people around me
The army of friends
Passed me by.
Nobody noticed.
It was then I realized
I never made a sound.
About the Creator
Cherub
I'm a writer, just like the rest of you.
"I drink, therefore I am-- or at least I think that how the saying goes" -Amigo the Devil
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