For today’s assignment, we’re supposed to participate in a blogging event, and this one stuck out to me. The #DearDepression event was started by Elektra from Unpredictable Life. The event gives the option to share your experiences with depression to build a sense of community, or you can create a poem or drawing.
I decided to post a poem I wrote about my depression while I was in college. It was published in the Upper Mississippi Harvest, SCSU’s yearly writing publication. That being said, since it is my own published work, please do not redistribute it in any way except either reblogging this post or linking to this post. Thank you.
“Frostbite”
I slip into my
sliver thin skin of ice
coat my lips with
dust and frost
and get lost
in the gray sky morning
pouring in my window.
The clouds shield
the feel of
the summer sun
and cover me
in the leftover weak streams
of bleak faded silver rays.
The weak breeze
wheezes and breathes
humid air through
the screen window and wraps
itself around my slim,
exposed limbs, trying to melt
the bits of frozen, welted skin.
I’m thinned,
splintered and spinning
endlessly, lying camouflaged
in the pale covers
hovering around my small body
like a silhouette,
a corner of light pink sheet
curled against a barely
noticeable sprawl of
stomach flattened into
a twisted spine, a fine, long
frame to hang skin on
like a hook in the wall to hang a jacket.
The string of ringing
notes from a faint Luna sonata
slide smoothly into my ears
and shake me with
almost pleasant shivers that
force the lingering layers of
ice and frostbite
to fall away from my angular
arms and wrists,
twisting the lonely ivory bones
out of their cold cocoon
for a time, if only
to bleach white in the sun,
undone by the warmth of a long dormant
melody.
I advise you to never come up north from Fall to early spring. I love the negative 30 degree temperatures, but if not properly prepared for it with layers of heavy clothing, you will literally freeze to death!
Was in the state of LA once during my senior trip in high school. Was way TOO hot for me. Have the tendency to have grand mal seizures if I get over heated. That’s why I live up north.
Your poem was very descriptive. Would have thought you were lost in Antarctica from your descriptions of the cold.
Eating disorders are more common than most people realize. Glad you were able to get the help you needed.
Stay warm, and keep writing, It helps let the demons out. That is why I write! We all have are individual demons to fight.
Oh goodness, that does sound cold. My mother would probably like it up there. Funny enough, she’s from Kentucky, but she hates hot weather. I don’t understand it. Everything else about her is Southern except for her preference in temperatures.
Glad you were finally able to view my blog! lol After all that trouble… anyways, thank you so much for your kind words about my poem. I certainly felt lost at that time, albeit not in Antartica. But dang, let me tell you, when you get down to 82 lbs, you are cold ALL THE TIME. 90 degree weather was still sweatshirt weather at the hospital. I hated going back inside because it felt so cold in there.
Although my eating disorder days are behind me, I still struggle with that depression. It’s getting better though. I will keep writing! I need to get back into the swing of poetry. It’s been so long since I’ve written a good poem.