[Poetry] The Spectre (Depression)

Death is in my makeup,
Poison in my veins.
Failure lurks with every touch,
And pain beneath my wings.

[Poetry] The Dance

Step by step,
Hand in hand,
Dancers move,
Across the floor.

I look into your eyes
What do I see?
Acceptance, of who I am,
Knowing what I am,
Yet giving, accepting.
Loving.

Tears are falling.
Raindrops, spilling.
Drip by drip,
Ever seeping.

“It’s you.”

She smiled at him, and reached her hands across the table. He smiled back, reaching over to hold her hands tightly, never wanting to let go.

“There’s a dragon in the attic.” The son comes up to the father and announces it seriously one day.