One time depression visited the doctor to maybe find a cure.
He was given a prescription, it was full of calming medicines and a note that he should visit the therapist.
He questioned the decision and finally went there. The therapist always knew better and gave all his support to depression; "it's going to be okay, trust me". In the end of the session there was another prescription :anti-depressants precisely Zoloft.
Depression believed he was not sick, it's just a bad month so he did not listen and smiled brightly before he takes the advise of perspective: the world does not need us and we can not handle it.
YOU ARE READING
winter
PoetryA poetry collection that Witnesses the expansion of a human heart through seasons, through years. cheesy love, painful love, kind love, politics blended into poetry, mental abuse that cannot be romanticized, literature, movies and music, religion an...
