You're a puzzle piece without a puzzle, Depression tells you.
Again with the lies.
She sees only the part of you that's broken, telling you that's all you are for so long you almost believe her. You consider never showing your whole self again.
The world teases with drips of orange and red, but she locks you in her pillowy claws until your bones ache for sun.
Whore of deceit.
You kick. You cry. You sleep her away. Her lies melt into the evergreen of winter.
You are free again.