IN A ROOM

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I forget how depression feels sometimes.  That’s dangerous.  To forget isn’t an option.  I have to remind myself how sneaky and insidious it is.  I must remember what it felt like to be its prisoner.  Depression as a room and me held captive against my will.  I am so grateful to have escaped this room… I don’t ever want to stop being grateful.

I was…
The lamp
Flickering
Shining
Buzzing
The table
Flimsy
Swaying
Silent
The chair
Splintering
Imprisoning
Creaking
The fan
Swishing
Cutting
Screaming
I was…
The person
Fracturing
Alone
Broken

4 thoughts on “IN A ROOM

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