On The Bravery in Taking Medication for Your Mental Illness #1

This is the first spring when I haven't felt
Dragged through slush under truck tires

When the trees blossom and pear flowers sprinkle the grass like strange snowflakes
I normally sink into a slow and oily pit of blackness:
Backward hibernation,
I don't want to see the way the world creates a reflection of new-life when I
Feel dead inside,

I prefer Autumn:
Leaves peeling from the trees and scattering their beauty beneath them -
I leave a trail of Beauty but my branches are empty...

This year is different.

For the first time since I was fifteen I have been able to appreciate
The purple of the violets
As they protrude passionately from the neighbor's knoll-y yard,
I breathe in annoying pollen and somehow the smell is fresh
Instead of obnoxious.

I don't know what healing looks like,
But maybe it feels like seeing spring.