Winter 2026.
A poem? Maybe? Idk.
Depression feels like a cloud A cozy weighted blanked It holds You Down A big weight on your Chest Under the guise of Coziness. You came to enjoy the weight, The way your lungs can’t quite expand the way they used to. You remember those sunny, happy days When you felt like yourself, But each day it fades More and more Until you sit In the dark And wonder Is there anything out there for me anymore? You logically know that winter — Yes, the snow that never ceases outside But also this season of frost in your mind — Will end. But who will you be when it ends? Will you ever get that girl back? The one who lived in sunshine and loved her life Inhale. Exhale. Why bother? This is who I am now. These are thoughts that have become your new home. The only glimmers of sunshine that melt The snow in your mind Are your friends who call to check in, Whose voices ring with joy and light And remind you of what your own used to feel like. And your book, the fantasy world that has saved you now Not once but twice. The first draft got you through a miserable time in your life And the eleventh draft is getting you through this season. I want to smile wide like sunshine And feel the thrill of being alive Of loving who I am and believing in myself and having hope But look out the window The darkness that consumes the world The children The children. Why can’t I thaw out? Some days feel like spring Like maybe a facet of sunshine has gotten in Through the cracks of my dry skin And the tiny seed That my friends have kept warm Is going to bud into a tiny flower. I would like that. I try to water that seed on good days, But then bad days come And I feel hopeless Again.