Some days chase me
Making me run from the Devil himself
Though even the Devil doesn’t make me run as far
Knowing Depression can knock my very breath away
With just one thought.
But some days chase me anyway
Making me some nervous shell
Of the confident woman I pretend to be.
This strong beautiful woman
I’d love to be
And not look like.
This woman who walks through the flames of Hell
Unscathed save the soot
Dancing on her bare black shoulders
Like some invisible cape she earned
Or a badge of honor
Symbolic of her valor.
But some days scratch and claw at my heels
Desperate to draw blood
Though this blood,
I throw fistfuls of gold glitter into
All to fool myself and others this is ichor
Dripping down my chin
Resting between my breasts and filling my mouth.
Yet I stroll forward
Though glass stabs my soles
And my eyes burn from the fumes
Fighting my own Depression most days.