I feel my heart bleed,
and contract indeed,
my body cries for my soul to keep,
and before I lay me down to weep,
and crawl, yet again, beneath my sheets,
to simply fall fast asleep,
never to wake again,
but be left to finally rest in peace,
I kneel down upon my knees,
not as a prayer,
cry for help,
or to ask god, can you please?
But as a plea,
bellowing up from my own curiosity.
Dearest Depression,
that has been an incessant obsession,
one I pretend not to hold in my possession,
dare I ask that simple, but complicated question?
“What do you need?” I say, feeling rather dismayed.
“I’m here, listening now, tell me whatever it is you need to say.”
“Oh, depression, here’s my question,
what is it that you need?”
I need to speak my truth…
that salivates off the bitter taste of hope,
that craves necessary change,
interlaced in sound-waves that range,
from an exchange of high to low,
wails filled with sorrows of woe,
that each carry their own note,
harmony, rhythm and flow,
and even if I can’t say it all the right way,
the hope for a better tomorrow,
is enough to bring better days.
I need to see it be received…
taken in deep,
instead of erased,
or misplaced,
never given a chance to breathe.
Seeking out places of reprieve,
to retreat in healing & given sweet release,
letting go of misguided ways & beliefs.
I need to know that it landed…
and the world will be okay,
even after-the-math of a projected doomsday,
that her creatures won’t be left stranded,
from the demands on her waters and lands,
made with our very own hands,
and future generations won’t be left short-handed,
by the messes we made yesterday,
and continue to make,
still…to this day.
I need to know the children will be okay…
that everyone is safe,
and I am too,
amidst all the misguided hatred we face,
the bombs being made to some day detonate,
the ones that already have,
already are…even as I state,
that only perpetuates the problematic fate,
and even more, they seem to create,
if only we would join together as a human race,
no longer playing out the imperial stories that divide and separate.
I need to know the plants will continue to awake…
give us their amazing fruits to feed our growing pace,
and that we’ll stop throwing them away,
creating so much damn waste!
And learn to give more back,
instead of require so much take,
and that there wasn’t so much at stake,
where every decision carries so much weight,
and a simple desire to play and create,
didn’t have to be measured by the current environmental state,
and that our true humanity will be embraced,
and everyone will find their sacred purpose and place.
I need to know that it’s okay not to know,
the how,
the why,
the what,
and the flow.
That somehow the surprise of Life itself,
is just enough to reap what we sew.
But, most of all, as I write today,
I need to know,
that I’ll still be loved,
even when I feel this way.
Menstrala School 