supine thoughts

Moodswings

I forget the feel of you sometimes.

I forget the intensity
that you carry.

I forget the heaviness
when you come upon me at night
and rest upon my chest like a paperweight.

I forget the endless days spent together
under the covers of my bed,
with the curtains drawn tight and the lights switched off.

The world fades to nothing for a while
when I bide my time with you.
But sometimes I forget your persistence,
I forget how you cling.

When you leave,
air returns to my lungs,
and as you return too I forget how it is
to breathe deeply and sense life in my chest.

Perhaps when you next visit,
I should write another poem,
to remember - once you go

and leave me thinking 
I'm free again -

how it is depression feels.