i've been thinking about
a second tattoo
this time
across my forehead
I KNOW I'M NOT
GOOD ENOUGH
SO DON'T FUCKING
REMIND ME
and every time you
started talking at me
i'd point one middle finger
to my face and then to yours
but somehow i don't
think you'd notice
Suffering from depression is like:
biting your nails
when they're already too short
picking at your wounds,
and not allowing them to heal
living in your past,
because you're afraid of the future
feeling lonely,
yet being afraid
to burden other people
with your presence
wanting to get things done,
but being too unsure of yourself
to even try
you want to be happy,
but being sad is what you're most familiar with
you're afraid to live,
and afraid to die,
but you never know which option is worse
teeth shouldn't
lie on pavement
and blood shouldn't
run down your face
and as i dragged
myself along the
side of the road
i thought to myself
this is the lowest
moment of my life
flat on my back
staring into the
12 o'clock high sun
and sobbing
i wanted to die before
this moment but now
it's only reinforced
cemented in place
that in fact i can't
do anything right
some wise woman
supposed sage of ages
once told my mother
that for every great emotion
a person needs a physical
container to put it in
but what should one do
when their container
has always been a retainer
that now doesn't fit?
hit where it hurts most
my mouth
years spent suffering
so i can wake up
every morning with a
fresh twenty dollar smile
and now that's
all gone i suppose
maybe i'm vain
or maybe i'm dumb
but the smile makes
the woman and mine
is looking like i'm
not so human
penny for my thoughts?
i'd give a lifetime of
change jars to get
back my perfect teeth
how do you start a
poem
it's been so
long
i remember how to let
the colors do the talking
textural inflections of
what's internal
except i have a hard
time expressing pain
and sadness in color
because i love colors
and that has left me
with a lot of ends i
can't weave in so
now i'm trying to
remember how to
write a poem
guess i should
start like this
spinach has blown
down my neck
and drifted gently
under my ribs
(i'm the salad fork carefully
rolling coffee beans
in drippy melted
warm dark chocolate)
i'm hungry but
not in the way where
my stomach growls
in the way where
i want to cry
but i've got to keep my
$20 teeth fresh and
minty at all times
the mirror
is broken
cracked in so many places
i'm more jagged lines than person
a mosaic of pieces that don't match
and parts i don't like
the truth is i
am flawed
and i will always
be flawed
and i may never
stop looking in
a broken mirror
wishing to smash
my body on its
sharpest edges
but i'm slipping
into a comatose
state of control
and loathing
(the more dead i get
the more alive i look)
when will i snap
out of this
when will i snap
out of this
(I DON'T WANT TO
SNAP OUT OF THIS
I DON'T WANT TO
SNAP OUT OF THIS)
stir the greens
rip the chicken
orange stings
the minty sores
chew chew chew
chew chew chew
chew chew chew
chew chew chew
chew chew chew
chew chew chew
chew chew chew
chew chew chew
chew chew chew
chew chew chew
swallow
take a bite
leave a bite
too much
too little
still hungry
always hungry
but it will all feel better
another ten pounds down
there is a fine line between procrastination and meditation but I can't tell the difference most of the time.
Had a coffee today
it unquestionably feeds an urge to be an addict
The sun shone brightly and made me feel
the forthcoming weather would be harsh.
My freckles showing like a garland
The flowers down the street were in bloom
Yellow Irises capture a certain light
as I pass by