From luscious red to a deep colored blue, I lost myself in a depression peek-a-boo.
I call it a peek-a-boo because of the constant game we played, breaking my heartstrings at each stay.
My parents paid no mind to what was going on because depression is something that never stays for "that long".
What they didn't know was the encrusted dark thoughts that permeated my every walk, the thought to end a perfect life with his heavily bladed scythe.
There was a time when enough was enough, and I had to kick this demon in its butt.
I stopped being stubborn and asked for help on a battle I could not govern.

Day after day, hour after hour, I sat in a chair that held much power.
To either make me or break me, I hope it chose the former because I could no longer be locked into this tiny corner.
Of grief and sadness, I was slowly losing my mind.









So she pressed and I digressed, never telling her the main reason for my distress.
I didn't want her to get into my head because there would be no explaining what I would do if she said ....
That I needed more than guidance, I needed an asylum to block all roads leading to delirium.
But surprisingly she didn't, she understood me on a different level like no other could.
She was my guardian angel, a savoir with a white hood.
I started seeing results, my mindset was now drenched in gold, instead of that green tinted yellow poisonous mold.
Now I was a deep colored periwinkle, with blue as my temporary choice of sprinkles.

Though I'm on the road to recovery that does not mean my blues stopped hovering over me.
Some moments are fleeting, some are prolonged, I think he carries his own special song.
Of how he did me wrong, bending me to his will, sending me down instead of uphill.
He learned his lesson as did I. We were both formidable opponents in this battle cry.
I hope my deep colored blue will turn into a special hue of rainbow colors galore, I hope for that and nothing more.