Tag Archives: Depression

Addiction

Electric fire shooting through us
as absurd hunger – ruinous
We are ambiguity
broken forms teased by contiguity

No wires stretched between anxious thoughts
leaves on the water’s surface – caught
We are ambiguity
terrified of becoming superfluous

How shameful this time would thus be
our desire all that we can see
self-branded scarlet letter
we wear like winter in a warm sweater

But a sweater is held by thread
while less of us can oft be said
Self-branded scarlet letter
our fiendish addiction to destiny

We pay ourselves gratuity
self-branded scarlet letter
but none of it makes us better
we are ambiguity.

Please

Tell me
               what I’ve done means something
               I’ve still got time
               it will get better

Tell me
               the weather outside is nice
               love is enough
               the worst is behind us

Tell me
               those I love won’t ever feel like this
               their futures are bright and limitless
               I’ll die before I see their end

Tell me
               anything that will keep me going
               that you mean it
               to trust you
make it sound genuine.

Canvas

Where was this page then
               when all I had was lost
               and I was undefined
in need of exactly this kind of friend?

               Where were you at that time?
           Why be here now when I need you least?

               Will you still be here
           when I need you again?

                      I can feel your fragility

                          I can feel you screaming

Bring two fragile things together and risk breaking

                       The sound is anxious starburst
               beautiful

        Yet so often you long for emptiness

               Void is truth I guess

          How genuine of you to keep me at bay.

Implode

I’ve had enough of me
the dreams that once would get me through
have drifted away and bent askew
floating past their apogee
I’ve had enough of me

The joy I had was misconstrued
and there is nothing left I want to do
I’ve seen all I want to see
I’ve had enough of me

Trapped in a puzzle room without a clue
forgetting more and more of what I knew
I just wish I could be free
I’ve had enough of me

The loneliness inside I can’t subdue
the stable moments are so few
all that’s left is debris
I’ve had enough of me

2 Minute Notice

Ever screaming towards a distant point unseen
the whole of everything is barreling past
who could have known the world would move so fast
the rushing air and tears pulled by the slip stream
at a speed that makes the journey seem obscene
Clearly the moment to stop has long since passed
but an ending is coming – this cannot last
a sad finality one could have foreseen.
The destination approaching is a dream
lost inside a memory one can’t recall
but in its approach one can feel it defined
though the path may have a conclusion it seems
the journey was laid in cold repose at the fall
when from thirty stories up I chose to resign.

Choking Hazard

Those dark hands ever questing for my throat
they find their bonds and break them
gliding accross the skin like an anecdote
whispered words of maligned memories
transcend crescendo unto grievous guttural notes
bursting through the ears and crashing through the skull
driving my sense of self into places most remote
their sole purpose met as I cower condemned
seeking refuge behind all the words I wrote.

Alone

Cold walls make emptiness hollow
a word becomes a paragraph
but the silence is often worse;
that soft, sobered condemnation.

It grows on you like wilted vines
masking mortar and stoic stones
with a web that pulls at the bones
and antagonizes the spine
into emergency room lines.
‘Twas silence that broke Apollo
and surely I too will follow
beneath all this desolation
with my own frigid narration;
cold walls make emptiness hollow

but they fit the mood of the thing.
So I sit, intensely alone
processing all that I was shown
wearing tragedy like a ring;
the whole of my mind in a sling
thoughts circled like an epitaph
rubbed raw in stone on my behalf.
‘Ouroboros,’ the term scoured
when spoken at the right hour
a word becomes a paragraph.

Poisonous prose sinking inside
deep within the ardent soil
that place where thoughts oft wont to roil
and become greater than they should
louder than the self ever could
spitting out erratic free verse
without pause or time to rehearse
and asking, “repeat after me,”
so you spew disheveled debris…
but the silence is often worse.

A void mirrored is oppressive
a wave that splits the earth and sky
sent upon us to purify
turning the peaceful aggressive
the charitable, possessive.
Nothing is more than stagnation.
It’s more than obliteration.
It is the ego sacrificed
sold out for a zero-sum price
that soft, sobered condemnation.

Anxiety

The wind, it whispers, “something is wrong,”
Lest it grow and drive the lot of us mad,
I beg you, drown it out with song.

Though this may be a place you feel you belong,
Weighted with countless reasons to be glad,
The wind, it whispers, “Something is wrong.”

To ensure your days may yet be long,
and without those events that leave us sad
I beg you, drown it out with song.

Cuts down the most jubilated throng
Turns the best of days sour and bad
The wind, it whispers, “something is wrong.”

From the weakest weak, to the strongest of the strong,
Don’t allow your armor to go unclad,
I beg you, drown it out with song.

Though some seem to just go along,
Many have lost all they had.
The wind, it whispers, something is wrong,
I beg you, drown it out with song.

Depression

When you are first against the wall,
There is little time to think,
Blinded, afraid, then executed.

You labor your chest to rise and fall,
Your stomach, your bowls both sink,
When you are first against the wall.

The mind is pushed to the brink,
Belabored, oppressed, and persecuted,
There is little time to think,

To realize it is yourself you’ve prosecuted,
The genuine self, innocent, now polluted,
Blinded, afraid, then executed.