In metaphors


What is depression like?

You know how a flower’s delicate petals wilt when exposed to too much sunlight? How, if left unattended, they’ll crumble in your hands?

Remember just how easy it is to forget that the kitchen tap is running? You might not realize until the bubbles blow up like a hot air balloon and trail to the floor,

Or how a cigarette starts to disintegrate within seconds of shaking hands with a flame?

I’m a car revved up for a road trip on a quarter tank of gas,

an 800-page book with too small of a font for anyone to read.

I’m an undercapacity human who wishes she didn’t have to describe her life in metaphors.

For more original poetry, follow me on Instagram @creationsbyjayda

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