Depression is comparable to the Titanic.
Not the actual sinking of the ship with an onset of panic and a rather quick descent into the ocean of problems forcing their way down your throat, nor is it laced with romanticism or a flash of nudity and love.
Draw me like french girl?
More like draw me like a french soldier clawing his way up the beaches of normandy, the only escape, a bullet.
Depression is more like the iceberg.
You’re stuck helplessly
floating
in your own
numb bubble,
and if you’re not careful you take down everyone in your wake.
Most times you’re able to keep your head above water just enough to keep existing,
but you can feel gravity yanking you down.
Kaylee Tucker resides in a suburb of Detroit where she coaches collegiate tennis and earns her Master's in English. Aside from creative writing, she is focused on how developmental struggles families face in literature are applicable to improving relationships.
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