Phase

It creeps up on you. Slowly. 

Catching you unaware. Much like malai on a cooling mug of coffee.

It clings to you, like a security blanket.

Luring you into a false sense of calm, you’re holding onto fragments of your broken promises. Bleeding into the blanket, searching for help in each drop.

The drenched blanket now means you’re all bled out. 

Purged of your fear. 

Your eyes shut capturing the peace of the purge.

And just when you thought you’re safe, it creeps into your dreams. 

Like a wallflower growing through the cracks between your reality and thoughts.

“Don’t worry it’s just a phase, it’s not depression, you’re just sad”

Clutching onto your blanket, you’re still waiting for this phase to end.