Adrift

I have always believed depression lived
within ebony clouds beneath my eyes.
Wherever I look, and whenever I shun
the world, I could still see myself -
a wandering soul. Who I am, who I was,
and who I will be is mirrored in every
tear shed by your grieving heart.

In the midst of an
empty April evening,
I sought solace
sitting silently at the
bottom of a tea-stained
glass. You told me to
hold my pen when you
found me putting it down;
although it has run out
of its grey ink.

It was then that I heard
whispers hidden
carefully within the cracks
of my palms,
and you patiently traced
them for me.
You've shown me hope
I've been holding
for so long that I did
not even know existed.

The sun rose without delay that morning,
and I knew I was no longer alone.

I never was; you whispered.

07/14/12
*For a very special friend. No need for critique.
Thank you for reading :)