it's like a storm cloud

depression sounds like silence

and it tastes like water

it's looking deep into a puppy's eyes

It's stuck in the middle of a crowd

on a ledge

in a car that won't start

and a pen with no ink

it's early on Monday morning

And in the unmoving hours of a Sunday afternoon

it's swimming in dirty water

an inflatable raft in the middle of the ocean

a gully in your mattress

a sweater two sizes too small, on a hot day

depression is like a brick wall that  you didn't see

it smells like acid

and like too much vanilla perfume

writer's block

two broken legs

it looks a little like a junk yard

after a tornado

your fingers glued together

something on the edge of your mind

the tip of your tongue

depression is standing still, in the middle of the field, during the marching bands half time show

laying in the street

car broken down on a highway

it feels like darkness when you want to read

piles of work to do when you have a stomach virus

peanut butter then nothing to drink

it feels like shampoo running into your eyes

depression is sticky

and it's cold like tiles on the bathroom floor

it looks like your finger, swelling around a ring you can't get off

it's blades swinging from the ceiling

a glass wall you can't break between you and your best friend, as they are stabbed to death

it's a sound proof room

and trying to hold someone's hand without hurting them, while every inch is purple with bruises

a ferris wheel out of control

a sinking ship

your fingers being bent backward

finding something you lost right after you bought a new one

ice cream in your hair

tar on the soles of your shoes

it sounds like shrieking

depression feels like walking on glass

or filing your teeth

never ending commercial break

needles in your ears

the winter that wouldn't end

trying to walk into the wind

fog you can't see through

depression is everything that's bad about life

but with depression

it never ends