I’m afraid

It is September
nearing October
nearing November

I am afraid.

I am afraid to spend the holidays alone.
My friends invite me to their families’ holidays.

I am more afraid
to feel more alone at my friends’ holidays.

It is September.

4 of this year’s 12 months
remain undocumented
everyday
is a wish for tomorrow to be over sooner.

My friends still call.

I don’t always pick up for my friends.

Don’t always answer honestly when people ask how I’m doing.

It is fine and okay and okay and okay
until I am crying when someone reads a poem about depression
until I feel more heard in that poem than I feel heard by my friends.

When that poem called I picked up.
Went on stage later like nothing ever happened.

I know how to dress depression well.

Until I am alone again.
Until I am driving home again looking at windshield through tear blurred eyes
this is now common occurrence drive

nothing ever feels safe though
meaning
nothing feels more dangerous either.