Depression is a war.
You can win or you can die.
It's a gun shooting off and hitting you in the heart
The gunpowder is the blood.
The sound of my heart breaking

Crushing my hopes and dreams
And everything I wanted to be
You were everything to me
But I was nothing.

The difference between you and me is that
while I was saving you
You were breaking me
You moved on but I was still here
Waiting..

I'm am the titanic you are the iceburg
Glossy but deadly
I held so many opportunities and you were there to sink them all
Thanks for letting me fall you left so quick I couldn't even hang on…

Depression

Dream unions celebrate
Fantastic communion for a
Strange orbital beauty
Which punctures the stitch
Of familiar reality and fortifies
Faith in the unknown

© Matthew Goff

4 o'Clock
4 o'Clock
Never let me sleep
I close my eyes and pray
For the garish light of day
Like a frightened child I run
From the sleep that never comes

4 o'Clock
4 o'Clock
Out of bed I creep
To climb this tower of shame
But the hour's still the same
Only madness knows my name
At 4 o'Clock


Why can we never go back to bed?
Whose is the voice ringing in my head?
Where is the sense of these desperate dreams?
Why should I wake when I'm half asleep?


Sure as the clock keeps its steady chime
Weak as I walk to its steady rhyme
Ticking away from the ones we love
So many boys, so little time

Why can we never go back to sleep?

You have eyes that take me to another world.

Replete of all its splendor
my withered heart beats...
Such a sad and tortured drum.

Refusing me death
It pumps its useless lifeblood
through my veins

My loneliness leaves me cold.
My desires.... with a frosted skim of ice,
How I long to melt for some unknown spring.

I have love inside!
I have love!!!
Love, no one even pretends to try and see

A poet!! What a joke!!
A dying breed of feelers
left to drown!

Pour me the cheapest drink
flavoured with the acrid taste
of societies disdain!!

I know I'm different
(One of the nicer things
that I've been called)...
It makes those cookie cutter clowns
try and fit me in the smallest box!!
Smaller than the one
where they reside!!

Intellect feeds my mind
yet makes me hungry all the time!
And my soul? Oh my soul!!
Always teaching me to walk a truer path.
Never used to be that way.
Now my ****** internal eye
that's all it ever sees!

My heart?
I do not wish to speak of it.
It beats.
At least it gets to share its time
with my soul.. and eating mind

The night is old...
I turn out the light.
Once again I sleep alone
and wish the empty darkness..
an empty dark good-night.

Roosty