Smoke In The Wind

The vulnerability that I share,
Is a simple puff of smoke in the wind.
You see it quite clearly,
And instantly when flames hit the wood.

My depression that I express,
Is a massive cloud of smoke in the vast sky.
You see how it dissolves plainly,
And swiftly into the nothingness of the landscape.

Once it is no longer visible,
You think it doesn't exist anymore.
Until...
Until you smell it in the distance.
You wonder where it came from.
You wonder why there is a ghastly odor.

Vulnerability,
Depression,
Is hidden in the mixture of nothingness,
That you often ignore,
That you often take for granted for not existing at all,
That you often think it is a figment of your imagination,
You're selfish,
For only thinking of yourself.
You're uncanny,
For only thinking I should be happy always.
You're not creative,
For only seeing happiness instead of balance.

There it lingers,
There it goes,
And no one can see it,
And no one can see the truth,
That my vulnerability,
That my depression,
Is just smoke in the wind.