The Magic Cloak


Another beautiful guest post on Depression by “ibukunwrites”

“There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.” – Laurel K. Hamilton, Mistral’s Kiss

My name is Angie,

Five years ago, I watched life seeped out of me

I saw darkness during the day

I lost delight in moonlight

My hands played sad notes

And melancholies became my favourite.

My eyes became dry

Life became meaningless

I found hope in bed

I found my voice in songs I never thought

were depressing

I slept like the deads in the underworld

Food became an enemy

I couldn’t stomach much

It never seemed like a disease

I had just developed a new attitude towards food.

I never wanted to leave my bed

I watched the same movie everyday;

There was a comfort that came with that.

I listened to Schubert’s Serenade every minute

Yet it sounded like sadness.

I felt empty,

I was like a basket flowing out

Every good that tried to stay in me,

Something must have happened;

I couldn’t remember what or maybe I did

But I knew I used to be full of life.

I laid under the bathtub with water

over my body trying to die but I couldn’t go on;

I just knew I couldn’t go on like that

I had become numb to pain

and I needed help

but my voice was too far gone to cry for one,

Maybe I never really wanted to be heard.

My life became Albinoni’s Adagio;

No words just strings of sadness

Then I knew that I had died

the day Andrew died

and in loneliness I found a magic cloak

where only I could see myself;

I became invisible in a twinkle of years

but they called it Depression!

©Ebukun Gbemisola Ogunyemi

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One Comment Add yours

  1. theanonymouscherif says:

    Down,out and under
    A striking piece!
    Just like a raging thunder

    Liked by 1 person

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