Hello everyone, this is a poem about a subject very familiar to me. As some of you may know, I have depression. It’s very different from just sadness, it is it’s own thing and often very hard to describe. This is often why poets talk about depression, it is very hard to describe without analogies or metaphors. So many people ask, “why are poets so emotional and sad all the time?” it’s because it is so much easier to express depression in art than just saying, “I feel like the world hates me.” Anyway, back to my poem. I wrote this poem when I was feeling particularly depressed and I didn’t really know how to describe it. Feel free to interpret as something completely different, agree or disagree, like or dislike I do not care. If anything I want as much feedback as possible to help me improve my work. So thank you for any feedback or suggestions.
He greets me every day.
We have an agreement, a bond signed long ago.
Some days he has mercy, but not always.
This is the fashion with which he greets me:
He steps forward into existence,
Smoke and shadow flowing in his wake,
His shoes click starkly on the stone as he approaches,
He runs a hand down my face
And then he whispers in my ear,
My dear, I’ve returned to take what is mine
And he embraces me with that same smoke and shadow until I cannot feel the sun on my skin.
Until my breath is deafened, and I cannot inhale sound,
Til the characters that live inside myself look on me with pity as I have no one,
Til the book in my hands fades to ash on the wind.
The warmth from my blankets now clammy around the hide that is my skin,
My passions snuffed to oblivion.
When I finally slip from his grasp is when the calm visage of sleep greets me with open arms,
But before the haze goes, he whispers
I will always be back, always.
And with a kiss he is gone.