Darkness doesn’t pass it just becomes different fragments of light Maybe over minutes, hours or days it can seem bright. As I sit twisting my short hair around my finger wondering if 4 days unwashed is a concern If the clothes I’ve not cleaned, that I sit in, does it really matter?

  I can raise a smile yet a tear falls quicker, overflowing my eye lashes, warm on my cheek, never alone as another one falls to the corner of my mouth, it tastes bitter sweet.

 My arms cradle my skin hugging myself in tight as I rest my chin on my knees I don’t want to be around anyone, smiling, trying to fit in and pretending to be happy and pleased.  

Yet I pick up my phone and a text a friend. I explain how I’m feeling, that I can’t carry on and that I think this is the end. No patronising comments are made, she cares, she’s been here with me before We’ve read this book a thousand times and never closed that door. we talk for an hour, maybe more until in the end we’re quoting Dr Seuss and James Bond one liners. Now the tears that fall are for joy and how I felt feels quite miner 

So for now it’s passed and I pick myself up that hour spent talking was about my mental health