A Beautiful Disaster

depression and hope: a slam poem

depression and hope: a slam poem

I saw that man in black again today,

He had a frown on his face when he looked at me.

I stared at him as he got closer to touch my cheek.

I felt like a mess, a broken doll unable to be fixed.

I leaned my head into the man in black's hand.

Cold and lifeless, you could say.

I felt tears stream down my cheeks as he touched me.

I knew who the man in black was, yet I couldn't push him away.

He wrapped his arms around me, and I cried.

I suddenly thought, maybe I could take my life this time.

That maybe, everything would be okay if I died.

That I wouldn't have to deal with the cruel world anymore.

I leaned into the man in black, but another being came into my vision.

A woman in white, she had a sad frown on her face when she saw me.

But she held out her hand, inviting me to follow her.

I looked at the man in black, seeing that the woman in white made him fade a little.

I looked back at the woman in white and gently grabbed her hand.

I didn't know where she would take me.

Or where we would go.

I just knew the man in black wouldn't be there; he wouldn't dare to follow.

My depression was like a heavy coat; it was impossible to get rid of once there.

But the only thing that can burn out my depression is hope.

a.b.