in some stories, the protagonist has to kill the bad thing to release its light. in my story, i am the protagonist & the bad thing, i have to learn how to bend the light out of myself.
explaining my depression to my mother a conversation
mom,
my depression is a shape shifter;
one day it is as small as a firefly in the palm of a bear, the next, it’s the bear.
those days i play dead until the bear leaves me alone.
i call the bad days the dark days.
mom says try lighting candles.
when i see a candle, i see the flesh of a church. the flicker of life sparks a memory younger