I dont know how to say this.
writing is the way out, perhaps.
for it doesnt need me to reach out to it, it’s my own.
I am speaking out, I am depressed

on Saturdays, friends ask on whatsapp ‘what’s your plans’
I lie, that I have.
oh wait! I don’t even have friends, who ask this Face2face
I dont make any, anymore.
did i make any, anytime.

Person for people i have been, but for person for me now
not even myself. 
I am speaking out, I am depressed

This is a big ass city, oh beautiful too
have written a piece of poetry on this too
but Mumba aai only opened her arms for me, never the heart for me.
I am speaking out, I am depressed.

I tried finding success, in the circles of life
work space, love space, passion space
but spaced out from myself, there aint no myself.
I am speaking out, I am depressed.

i used cry watching movies, now i binge watch shows feeling less or wanting to be feelingSans.
I stalk people’s profile, it lets me belittle myself for not becoming the Me I had dreamt to be.

Ah, saturdays, I do make plans of doing this and that and that and this
Plans, solo. Lone. Alone.
It appears cool, it agree, but I never said, sometimes its not out of my choice.

No i wont cry, i dont cry. I am crying.I am strong I shouldnt , perhaps.
this too alone.
I dont know how to reach out. 
But I am speaking out, I am depressed.

ofcourse, not the depressed movies makebelive. some real shit.
perhaps, its momentry, 
That’s how i reconciled a few months back.

They said find love. no one said, for yourself. I kept looking out
They said talk it out, no one said without the fear of being judged, for they only judged me and made me judge myself. 
They said revive your passion(s), they said go home, 
I am too tired to listen, I am much broken to feel

I want to help, 
hence, I am reaching out. I am speaking out. Listen, if you may. try to, if you may.

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