She drags her hand down the door,
To hold on to a tether firm enough
To shoulder her aching heart.
Her perpetually chaotic mind,
Reminds her of her depression,
And the occurrences that led to it.
Takes her to the harrowing times,
When she was here before.
Haunts her of her helplessness.
Fear grasps her heart,
Dismay, chaos clutches her mind
As she battles to stand up and rise.
Dread takes charge,
Converting beautiful glimpses into gruesome arts.
She reaches her hand out for help,
To find hands,
To hold her,
She yearns for reassurance,
Only to find her state deemed worthless,
Only to find her every action being judged,
Only to find her state being stigmatized,
And her strongest pillars failing to support her
She had nowhere to go,
No one to see.
She yearns for emotional freedom,
She yearns for freedom from these wounds,
She tries to embrace her fears,
Stitch up a ripped, wounded soul,
Veil herself from the judgement of others,
For she knows,
That when she lives as a free victim,
When she combats this pessimism,
She would be independent,
And she would be reaping roots,
And soaring high as free as a kite.