This piece regards enduring insomniac nights as a metaphor for years of treatment-resistant major depressive disorder and the difficulty to believe I can grow a healthy self-concept despite the erosion of my identity and joy.

————

Night names me,

light lames me.

In early morning still

I sing myself to sleep,

fractal music scattered,

fragmented hymnary.

Blight blames -- me,

inhabiting

space ceded

by silence

and its static;

flight frames – me,

becoming

as I was

and am

and will be

my own

internal

harmony.

By Connor Orrico

From: United States