There is a yawn- breath of space between you and dysfunction,
A constant tug of the current, a constant tug to the depths.
The goal is to keep on pushing.
They say, it’s like treading underwater
They say, it’s like going outside summer sunlight golden splashed-
But there is a darkness in your eyes that weighs heavy on your shoulders, casts the day in ash.
They say, depression is a chemical imbalance and then nothing is balance, and you a constant tittering, between the abyss and the sky, between alive and asleep, between function and dysfunction and hanging in there and not ok.
The most important thing is to keep on moving
Keep heaving yourself out of bed, heavy bones and heavy head, a-wobble on your shoulders, feet faltering with the weight-
Function means you keep up with assignments and when you cannot, you make them up fast and furious, extra credit, get the A
Function means smearing your face with concealer and painting your burning eyes pretty and going out with friends and laughing and
and air and sky and hands and feet and ocean sweet mercy and never think of what you want when you feel you don’t really want anything at all
Function means suctioning out the moments one by one and taking them apart and unraveling them like rope and re-twining them into bracelets, kept as souvenirs-
every moment a miracle.
every twilight a triumph.
Function means bed, you cannot hold me and grief, you cannot keep me, and mind, you cannot fool me when head to heart to heels, I believe I am meant to be alive-
every breath a second chance,
and see the world and how it shivers with need,
and all the wanting in your hands- give over.