Around the topic of depression. The abuse of medicine and the times we hold the toilet as safety and in silence.
We slip.
Past the reason we even came together. Down the side of a mountain we hoped one day to have conquered: self-image.
We deny.
Ever feeling little, even though we are all desperate for anyone to tell us our worth.
We hurry.
Past compliments and around conversations that make us feel uncomfortable. Through the moments that could be memories.
We cry.
For others who are selflessly asking for help. Over the moments we never took for what they were worth. Alone, because isolation heals faster than speaking up.
We break.
Over and over again without even knowing because, in fact, isolation and silence are stronger than we will ever admit
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