I was privileged to be asked to do a poetic duet with Hastywords a couple of days ago. We were talking, and I started writing something that I was just going to toss away, but Hasty took it and turned it into something complete. She does that.
Helena is my truth teller. She doesn’t pry, try to fix me, or even know me that well, but she reached out and told me she understood. In fact, as of late, I have several bloggy friends who have formed a casual support group. Sometimes, something will trigger depression but depression doesn’t need a reason and those who suffer from it understand this. I don’t know why but just knowing I am not alone helps; which in a way, seems totally screwed up because I hate that anyone else has to fight depression.
Yesterday morning Helena wrote a poem that mimicked the voices inside my head and it spurred me to write. I wrote a few verses between hers and ended up with the poem below. All of this happened before we heard of Robin Williams death.
I spent hours reading shocked condolences to his family, remembrances, and heartbroken…
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