The night we sat in your room and talked about what it meant to be empty
Was the night I realise I no longer was.
The cold cement walls coloured the air grey, but the tips of my fingers changed them like a mood ring
From green to bluish green to purple to blue.
And you told me you were jealous that I was not in that place anymore.
I said thank you, but what I really wanted to tell you is that,
Sometimes it is better to stay constantly black.
Watching that rain water on the roads today, my emptiness felt like mourning for my former self,
Who turned the roads soft because I loved too hard.
It reminded me of the change in my backseat that we saved in a jar with sober eyes like moonshine,
Planning trips with pennies.
The moment I met you, I thought my depression was cured.
Because I worried about you more than myself.
I cashed in the change when we broke up.
Kept the £50.
And left the jar on your doorstep
For all the times you made me hit the floor so hard
I broke the sound barrier.
I did everything right.
In class today, I learned that depression often forms because of loss,
But even when we uncover our lost possessions
Depression remains.
It is so easy to keep recycling soot
And smearing the remnants on others.
And the cycle repeats until our organs are too covered to care.
All of the places that gave me comfort
Now just give me an escape
To pretend that my life hasn't been buried beneath me
And I am so proud of myself for making it.
I know now that empty is a synonym for too full.
And still, the colours outside change like broken bones
I did everything right.
I thought I did everything right.
[[ w 🥀 ]]
