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Call & Response
June 2, 2023
It’ll get better.
I stare back at the ghostly stranger in the mirror.
It’s just a rough patch.
My starving body shivers under layers of clothing, drowning me.
You’ll feel better soon, don’t worry.
My arms ache with the aftermath of blades against my skin.
Just don’t think about the bad.
I close my eyes, my entire body engulfed with the devastating waves of sadness.
Why don’t you talk to us anymore?
My mind is far away, stranded on an island under constant attack.
You’ll get over it.
I cannot save myself from the enemy inside my head.
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This poem is about my struggle with depression.