It's creeping up on me again.

My depression is like the moon and the ocean,
Moon pulling the tide,
Phases and waves, phases and waves, waves and phases.

Some days it was quiet, calm and at peace, those days i could stand in the water and float like driftwood from some unknown land.

Others; the waves roared and landed, i was breathing in almost frozen water and sand, my lungs full and in demand of oxygen,
It was right above my face,
Mere inches away and it had me in its hands, like the jewels in the hand of a beggar.
Never letting me go until the ocean would take me.