Depressed Mom Thoughts

I am stressed
But I’m completely fine
God forbid I say depressed
& they will define me as unfit mother
I feel smothered
But let me not utter that word, or they will say it’s been on my mind
If something ever happens to this child of mine
& as wild & crazy & absurd as that sounds
I have continuously found
When you concur with the devil
There is no true level of repine  
I feel out of my mind & out of time & too close to the edge for comfort
& by design I’m broken, waiting on death to come first
Help me Please
Hear my prayer
I’m out begging on my knees & it’s been what seems, like forever
Almost an eternity, but don’t mind me
I’m just letting out all my typical mom thoughts
Rage, hidden by a smile & a new pair of shoes I just bought for my baby
My heart is heavy
Just like my eyes every morning from lack of sleep
Get up, get dressed, repeat
No true rest
I attempt to digress, but honestly
Between constant day & night sweeps
I’m just depressed
But I can’t afford to be medicated on a daily
Because how right would be that be
I mean how white would that be
You can’t raise strong black children
If you have to depend on a pill to function properly
It’s stopping me
& I’m not okay with it
I want to breathe
But I can’t seem to shake it
It’s holding me
Controlling me
Destroying me
I want to break free
But it won’t let go
Every time I find a new coping mechanism
It doesn’t stop, but better yet starts to grow
Im in a choke hold with my own thoughts, intrusive
Im stuck in a relationship that can’t ever be  exclusive
I cry inside because if a tear drops I’m weak
It’s been a week since I smiled
Every now & a while
I think about the old me & I miss her
She was so tender
Her love untethered, unweathered
She was put together
So gracefully
& I mistake that me, for a better version
She was too naive, too worldly, & a virgin
I wish she was more than a memory
But honestly, I’m glad she was learning
Cause now I can be HER
but SHE is tired & depressed
I mean okay, but nonetheless
I’m praying
Hear my distress
I’m yelling
For my life to be put to rest
I’m over it
I’m suffering, shuttering my emotions, & disclosing my polar side
Portray me as perfect
So I don’t have to keep wearing my disguise
Please
Hear me
Hear my prayer
Hear my pain
I’m crying for the Lord out in vain
I preach Abel, but I’m steady finding the Cain within me
I’m fine
Truly
I mean I have to be right?
I mean how unruly would it be for me not to be
I’m at the bottom you see
So I’m grounded?
I mean my feet are there at least
Does that count?
Is that too profound?
Am I being crazy again, when I try to pretend
That being rooted is the same thing as being drowned?