Hurricane Depression

My mind is a hurricane.

My thoughts are the 150 mph winds,

Spinning round and round with gusts of suicidal ideation.

It rains so hard I start to cry.

Has the day come, will I die?

It’s too late to run.

All that’s left to do is to board up,

Waiting for the storm to pass.

No one deserves to face the storm.

Do I pretend, do I preform?

Powers out, nothing’s running.

Trying to think,

But come a flood of worries.

Maybe one day it will stop.

Will that be the day I plop?

The rain and the winds calm.

In the eye we see light.

You may think it has passed.

But at the center if the storm,

You only made it halfway.

Won’t you do your best to stay?

At last, it comes back.

Thoughts are spinning.

Darkness everywhere.

Rain floods the abyss.

What happened to the bliss?

This hurricane season never ends.

The storms come and go.

This is the cycle of my depression.

Thank you for allowing my self-expression.