What I'm Trying to Tell You About Depression, Dad

When I took you out for coffee, Dad,

I never actually wanted you to drink it.

Like an hourglass bleeds out sand

hope drips through clinging white fingers

trickles through my knuckles as coffee,

Because as soon as you tip the mug

to taste the last drops, the coffee is done

and so are you.

The only thing to hold you in front of me

It's coffee- never your own daughter

only the small pennies I could offer,

but never me.

I'm sorry I never met the bar

but you kept raising it higher

just out of my reach and recently, Dad

my depression has felt so much heavier

I just wish between the sips taken

you could digest what I'm trying to say

when I explain that depression isn't disobedience.

Believe me,

I wish I could get out of bed in the morning

just as much as you do but I guess the coffee

hasn't been strong enough for either of us lately

I'm so sorry I find it hard to go outside too,

but look at me now, Dad, my hands are shaking

from coffee- no wait- anxiety but I'm right here

in this shop to fix our relationship

the one that I'm so sorry I broke

because I couldn't stand up straight

under depression, under its weight-

Never mind the anxiety.

I'm sorry I became such a burdensome daughter

Chose not to trust, to be afraid of people

terrified of how they could hurt me. Sometimes,

I wonder if someone has taught me to be that way

if someone taught me to flinch and shy at a touch

I wonder dad, as I stare at you intently

but you look over your mug with hurt and anger

shading your face as dark as your americano

I didn't move out of home to disrespect you

I moved further away because the people

we love most, who are the closest

are the people who can hit us the hardest

And maybe I deserved it, like you say-

but I wanted your love. I hurt myself enough

to know that the pain you gave will never heal me

no, Dad, it's going to kill me

and I need to fight this, I want to live

so I need to save myself, care for myself.

I wish you could have been the one to save me.

But for now, I'll wait for you in this coffee shop

And pray eventually, just maybe,

you'll drink your coffee little slower

Choose to stay with me,

just a little longer.