Ode to Depression

A simple poem. Pretty self-evident.

She built a castle
Its walls were cold;
The floor was frozen,
The rooms were old.

She built a staircase
That only went up;
When she reached the top,
It all caved in.

She carved a window
It took a year;
And through it she watched
Everything.

She dreamt possession
And they appeared;
She never touched them,
They might still be there.

She sewed a dress
And pulled it on;
It covered every inch,
From neck to the floor.

She painted a mirror
To see her face;
She made it perfect,
And covered the mirror with a shroud.

She drew a veil
And pulled if down;
It covered every inch,
And hid each feature.

She did not sit
And only watched;
If she saw, I do not know,
If she learned, I cannot say.

She had a door
It opened once;
She let me in
Like she didn’t have a choice.

She spoke a little
I had nothing to say;
And when we were done,
I went away