​Diagnosis

By Lara Connor ’22
​It crept behind bookshelves during circle time
fizzed in glasses of lemonade
jarred like PopRox
Jane first named it to her brother
the Sad Sick Feeling
this thing that came, went
and left her cold inside
 
It’s simple as the color blue
How would you describe the color blue?
Paralyzing as red
polarizing as black, white
muting like shades of grey
fleeting as the time left to be happy
 
There’s ferocity in depression
crumbled between pillows, sheets and sequin
Because hey! Jane
if you don’t win Homecoming Queen
return to the king in your bedroom and never leave his side
Drop your clothes, soak a pillow, eat away the sad
Besides, the dress doesn’t have to fit anymore