no
day is the same
no hour
some
days i feel so good
sometimes
then
for no reason at all i’m down
depressed
i
want to get drunk
it doesn’t do any good
but
depression physically hurts
and
all those voices,
“you’re
nothing but dirt”
ring true
yesterday
was such a good day
today i thought i just needed
more caffeine
but
now i recognize
what i’m feeling
almost
bought beer
but
opened an o’douls
pain,
sadness, dark
and
for fuck’s sake
it has nothing to do
with what i believe
i
have a disease
chemical imbalance
it’s
the only thing that explains
how the only thing that changes
is me
my
world view
is that it is all perception
and
not tangibly real
so
the world doesn’t dictate how i feel
but
i’m sure feeling something
and right now i just want to
slip this skin
i’ve
fought off thoughts of gin
using my pen
to
let a little light in
free,
fall, flow
let
my words glow
maybe
bestow
some balance
my
one talent
i didn’t bury in the sand
the
wind will always blow
and expose
what
is buried underneath
there
is nothing i bequeath
but
my collection of horror films
and CDs of alternative emo
today
i just can’t show
sides that supplicate
your suspicions
a
gemini in division
resistant
to your revisions
there
is no cure
except
in my CD player
the
only thing missing
is
cloud convalescent rain
and
the absence of pain
coursing
through my veins
the
life blood of depression
poetry
confession isn’t a profession
but
it’s how i make a go at living
all
these words i’m giving
are not for you
just me
watch
me bleed
ink
until
my body is a single tattoo
stenciled
without a clue
until
my image is a picasso
or a salvador dali
on
a beach in bali
i could still feel this way
i
don’t choose the day
the chemical imbalance
crowns
me with a downward spiral
viral
it
infects
i genuflect
emotionally
fetal
the
earthworms and beetles infest
till
they digest
every
ounce of my strength
till
even this pen is too heavy to hold
***
No comments:
Post a Comment