if the red of the sky dissuaded

i shrug, 
like i don't care

tilting my head to an angle
where the world no longer looks skewed, 
and pretend that the clock does not weigh me down more
with every movement of the minute hand

i am not beautiful
or glamorous, 
but that does not bother me right now. 

i am alive. 
and that is good enough for me

because depression was never a choice
but i still made it out
and finding a way to stop
(such trivial words for such a great askance of a task)
was still a journey i never wanted to take

being stranded in the desert. 

your feet are blistered by the hot sand, 
your throat goes dry from dehydration, 
your skin burns from the sun overhead. 

yet you cannot stop. 
you must not stop. 

and so, 
to all of the people
who have walked for miles to find salvation, 
and all of the people
who will someday feel the shade of a roof again, 
this is a goodbye from the desert. 

i made it. 
now i just have to believe it. 

The End

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