Darkness, she is my lover; my horrid friend.
She comes to me when I’m alone and wraps me in her cold embrace.
She cries with me; but it’s all just a mirror.
Her lips well as she presses them against mine.
Ice pierces my soul as I lay in her satin sheets.
Something within me stirs, an anger, burning.
A fire begins to rage, and in my fury I expose her treachery.
She promised me peace, calm, and comisery.
She was nothing but a trap, a cold and dark illusion.
I get up; and I feel the raw hot dirt beneath my nails as I clench it.
Truth is the hot sun on my back and the sweat in my eyes.
I realise in that moment that my God is both the God of violet sunsets, and blood & bone.
This is a poem about depression. Please do not take the themes and context at face value. Everything stated above is a metaphorical interpretation of the feelings and experiences of depression by one person.