The Power of “d” Words


I am not supposed to mention the “d” word but the last few days I’ve had a heavy heart. I keep fighting myself, deadfall at finding happiness, or contentment. Illusions of deception and defeat. Have I met my life’s deadline?
I feel so different than I did a year ago, single and delicate. In this moment, I do not feel the same, I feel like the “d” word. I cannot pinpoint if its him…draining. Or is it the premature responsibility of my mother’s rebirth, maybe both?
I’ve had thoughts of shaking everyone off like a gypsy shakes off water after a bath. I cannot find alone time anywhere I go. I die with defiance a little more each day.
Home alone in the living room to hear my mother’s deloused footsteps on the stairs. Invading my air, the room gets tighter.
I move to my dorm just to hear decry after decry after decry. Each of my offspring invades the light, making it deeper in darkness and it’s not even night.
I cannot scold or scream at them because someone is always needs to be here, if they were not here than where would they be…homeless.
I feel suffocated and it’s not from a waist trainer.
He is home now. His mood and inability to stay awake sends me into a past of dead fish and delusive air.
I want to avenge myself because he is in debt to me. I want him to pay for all the men of my past, present and future. Fighting my own demons…repulsive.
I’ve gained weight and for the first time ever I find comfort in food and the sleep I was once deprived of.
The “d” word presents itself again, evolving from suffocation to hide in internet searches, clouds revealed in clicks of dust left on my mouse. I rub my eyes, not knowing if I am sleeping, if I am awake…am I eating or am I dying.
“d” present’s again, announcing itself in the strokes of my pencil contained in these letters.
Only this time I say, I am the “d” word, for that reason depressed.

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