It Is a soda on a hot summer day.
Except you were expecting a refreshing carbonated drink…
I mean you expected it to be because just moments ago it was.
It's not like the Sun setting and the moon rising in a slow beautiful transition that you could fall in love with every evening and every morning. It's harsh and unplanned.
It chokes you because you expected something so different, so bubbly.
My depression isn't the soda.
I am the soda and my bottle cap is anxiety. When it spins out of control or cross threads my bubbles fade.
My sweet carbonation turn to a dull, still fluid just moving in my bottle.