the weight crushes
almost everything
except the dull ache
which swells slowly
to a roaring blast.
it rips the hinges
from the storm cellar,
winds its way deeper
down and finds you
in your darkness
searching for light.

** I have dealt with depression, and there is no shame if you have felt the same. Writing poetry is one way that has helped me navigate those feelings, but I also reached out to family, friends, a good counselor, and yes, medication has been a big help. Please reach out if you feel you are losing hope. Help is there.


i shut everything down during the storm,
never quite recovering anything. so i keep
digging, searching, following the trail back
through the wound, through the pain, through
questions that have no answers. revisit the place
somehow. retrace the steps of sorrow and excavate
that life from the past – reconnect – have mercy upon
the soul laboring beneath the burden of my expectations.


My burdens are invisible,
internal struggles, depression
whose weight grows each year.

It hasn’t always been this way.

Not like this fading tide recedes
into the deep with wreckage spinning
underneath the constant waves.



* * *

I’m doing better now than I was when I wrote this poem. If you are dealing (or have dealt) with depression, there can come a day when the waves are calmer and the storm subsides.



Embed from Getty Images

He is stuck again
between the spaces
of past and future,
moving along invisible
lines, bound to now
until it ends. How grim
an existence if not for dark
and light places revealing
the colors of grace sparkling
like the sun upon a dancing sea.


*From Awaiting the Images