Depression is deep today my friend. You are a definite shade of black today and your thoughts turn decidedly grim. Sitting out in nature, you don’t hear the birds, the insects the sounds of spring. You don’t smell the new growth in the buds and leaves and flowers. You don’t feel the warmth of a beautiful sunny day as hands rummage in the clay. You don’t see the beauty all around. All you notice is that I could finish everything here, now and then its all done, forever and always.
I cannot let you win, you know that. Guilt, remorse, shame and pain are my companions with you. For over thirty years we have been adversaries and I think I know you well. But that knife cuts both ways does it not and today you know I feel weak. Still, I cannot let you win, I must not. I have my love, my duty, my bills to pay. I have family who would not understand and why should you inflict yourself on them. They’ve done nothing to deserve you. Or me, for that matter. We are both an affliction but whereas I can try to do some small good, you cannot. There is no goodness in you at all.
My poems I write to excise you. The words trap you in layers of meaning. And I can continue the fight. And so, black dog or no, I will continue yet awhile until all is ready for me to go.