I wrote this poem as a gift to a friend/colleague/boss.
Their story is truly inspiring, so I made an art out of it.
Just a few weeks ago, maybe around mid-April until before May ended, I was in a state of not knowing what had been happening with me.
I didn’t want to eat, I didn’t want to do anything, nothing seemed to excite me, I didn’t want to go out with people, I couldn’t laugh with my boyfriend no matter how hard he tried to lift my spirit up, I cried every night with no particular reason while trying my best to not be heard by anyone, and all other things that just made me feel like the best thing to do was just end things.
How do you know
if you are still alright?
If you are still fine,
if you are still on track of your line,
when all you see
and all you feel
is something you cannot understand;
I feel wrong,
maybe sad, or down, or tired,
and I can’t even say why;
It’s like the mystery of a prism,
or the darkness of the shadow —
the questions of light.