depression is to my soul

as lace is to the handkerchief in my hands
it fringes my own thin edges.

in the battles between misery and trust,
anger and calm,
resistance and resignation,
every broken utterance scorches my chest,
while stolid silence wracks my soul with ache.
am i to do nothing, attempting not to feel?

i swim to keep my head above the tumultuous current.
the very act of survival is killing me.

oh God, rescue me.
save me from my own destructive,
faltering attempts at holding perspective and sanity.
restore the joy that i cannot fabricate.

day by day
my heart breaks anew.
evening by evening,
by the light of the moon,
holes are darned,
the tears are mended.