Depression

It’s a lump in your throat 
(Well, maybe just where it starts)
That plummets to your gut
And back up to your heart. 

Like you swallowed something 
Something bitter and vile
And you just want to purge
And you spit out bile. 

No matter how much you heave
How much comes out
That lump is still there 
Growing bigger, no doubt. 

You can hydrate all day 
And take care of yourself 
Eat a little bread
And get plenty of rest. 

But until you face it,
You know, what caused the lump,
It’s going to come back
And you’ll be in a funk. 

We can play at self care,
We can pretend we are fine
But it’s going to come back
Just give it some time. 

But we can fight it,
Everything we need is within,
Sometimes we need some help
Finding the weapons to win.