From the small crib in front of my bed
Books are relaxing the sight of them the stories within various ink and paper scents
Submitting your work to a contest or as a regular submission is nerve-racking.
Shot by the wife of a murderer you were defending, on your way home from the office after a company briefing.
My comfort zone my house, my bed left alone
Awakening to a pleasant day sun shining, gentle breeze,
She's pushed away, into isolation
Oversimplifying depression and the cure for it is not helpful to those who suffer from it.