the undermath

Just under that layer of smiles
I have to keep rolling
keep talking, keep rolling
so that the iceberg is always showing
and there isn't time to delve beneath
the tip of my persona

I can feel it trying to melt into the deep water
the black of myself
and I roll forward,
as soon as I stop
it will shatter me
it will fill me with despair
I will crumble in tears upon my mattress
and stay that way, contorted until I sleep

But if I keep rolling, keep talking,
never stop,
I can keep it at bay for awhile
until it hits me like a tidal swell
and I am crippled with it
my depression
always just under the surface
and me trying not to fall through the paper-thin floor.