Depression Is Not Blue

Depression is not blue.
Sadness is blue,
but depression is not sadness
and depression is not blue.

Depression is never ending black,
an abyss that swallows you up.
It is the deepest of all the colors.
The blue of sadness is in depression,
the waves of freezing water
washing over scarred bodies.
The lonesome shades of a van Gogh night sky.
The swirling, twisting
blues.

Depression is not blue.

The red of anger is in depression.
The flushed, angry cheeks,
flaming in the heat of the moment.
The dancing flame of warmth
and destruction.
The deep, violent shaded of grudges
and ancient wars.

Depression is not red.

The grey of indifference is in depression.
The sluggish, lonely days
spent staring at the empty ceiling.
The sleepless,
colorless
nights that the television illuminates.
The shadowed corners of the walls of a home
you’ve come to despise.
The empty pages,
The missed calls.

Depression is not grey.

The purple of insanity is in depression.
The nail biting, mind boggling, headache inducing
anxiety
that brings people to their knees
and prevents even the simplest tasks.
The swollen eyes from tears,
the dark bags under sleepy eyes.
The chewed lips.

Depression is not purple.

The yellow of fatigue is in depression.
The twisting stomach,
bile swimming in the pit, burning and eating away
at internal organs.
The dizzy head,
the rolled back eyes.
The bright sun of days
that can’t be enjoyed.

Depression is not yellow.

The green of relaxation is almost in depression.
The late wake-up calls,
the inability to get off the couch
and do something,
anything.
The slow days where nothing happens
and all is quiet.

Depression is not green.

It is not blue,
or red or grey or purple
or yellow.
It is not green.

Depression is black,
like hate and fear and uncertainty.
Black, like not wanting to get up in the morning.
Like black holes leading to nowhere.
The inability to do anything and to find complete joy.

Depression is black.