for as long as i have lived,
happiness has been a rarity.
i cannot recall exactly when i allowed depression into my home.
when depression arrived,
it left the door open.
soon after, i had many unwanted guests.
self harm: she made herself comfortable.
she was the companion on whom i relied.
at 4am when i found no rest,
she wrapped her arms around me.
bipolar: he was like an abusive lover.
he reaked of toxicity.
stole my voice,
made me question myself.
“be silent,” he would say.
anxiety: my universe.
stole all forms of stability.
known for ripping the carpet from beneath me.
loved breaking the unbroken.
until i woke up and said,
depression, you have no place here.
self harm, leave me.
anxiety, let me rest.
Buhle Ngoma ©️ 2018
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