Submissions by midnightblue612

I was saying
You interrupted me and I was glad, I could see my thought fading
Along the track of my mind. I was running behind, chasing, chasing.
You didn’t catch me.
You didn’t see, I said, there is the problem, you,
Didn’t notice I was chasing after myself and I had gone away
From my mind, I was lost chasing that thought because it was…

I was watching.
She changed the TV channel, and I was quiet or perhaps invisible
Because I have gone from myself, perhaps I have gone from here too.
You weren’t watching that, I won’t be a minute she said. But...

You arrive, again, with promises new,
Things will be better this time, I make a vow to you.
But I have fallen for your tricks many times before,
So why do I, yet again, open up the door.

You fooled me with your freshness,
Integrity and show of open hand.
But your promises are as permanent as castles in the sand.
Please tell me why with such joy, I take your offered hand.

You tricked my love to grow again,
A spring bulb under winter sun.
But you turned away, frost came cruel, a long mid-winter night.
And yet I still believe in you, my...

Winston Churchill had one and so does Stephen Fry.  It was reading an interview with Stephen Fry that provided Eliza with a pet name for her depression. Black Dog.
Before Black Dog, Eliza had an important job, people depended on her, and it wasn’t hyperbole to say lives depended on how she did her job. That was a lifetime ago.
Eliza’s daughter arrived home early from university clutching a tatty cardboard box. Beth had always been a girl who would take any lame duck under her wing, in this case, it was a little ball of flea ridden stripy fur; the tiniest kitten she had ever seen....

Scrambled brains for breakfast,
Flight of thought for tea,
Sedatives for supper,
Manic, manic me.

Limbs moving mindlessly,
Mind racing randomly,
Sense of humour disappeared,
Mardy, mardy me.

Regard me with sadness,
Stare at me with glee,
Paranoia sees all,
Watchful, watchful me.

Scrambled brains for breakfast,
Flight of thought for tea,
Full script for supper.
Goodbye, no more me.