MackenzieFowler

Like the ocean,

depression is vast.

But diving in isn’t a choice

and more often than not,

people don’t know how to swim.

The use of pills, food,

crying sessions,

countless talks with way too many therapists;

Those are the flotation devices

keeping the sad souls afloat.

Otherwise, they will drown

and be lost to the world.

The ever-growing pain,

much like the beach glitter covering the ground,

never seems to leave

and serves as a constant reminder

of the “fun times” that have been had.

Stepping onto the freshly wet sand

is not so bad.

The lapping of the cold water

like a warning or a beacon.

Take a few more steps:

It beckons.

Waist deep:

Just turn back to the sunny shore.

Ignore the ocean’s pull

And walk against it.

Deeper.

Chest deep:

The level of safety sinks

as the ocean’s water rises.

Lulled by the waves of depression,

the need to not feel,

walk forward.

Let the sea move over

the chin.

Walk where tiptoeing

makes it easier for the ocean to

take over as the tugging

grows impatient.

One more step

is all it needs.

Waves crash,

body consumed.

Try to fight,

tire too quickly

Too late,

in too deep and all light is gone.

All that is left is to

just float.

Just sink.

Just…

Be.