sometimes my parents will ask me
"are you really going down that road again"
with such disdain and bitterness
and it just makes me so angry
because they do not realize that depression
is not a road one chooses to go down
and it is not a road one can easily exit
it is an unpaved road riddled with cracks and potholes
with no street signs or stoplights to guide us safely home
and to accuse someone of willingly taking that road?
well, that is how some of us end up there in the first place
-

the best part of the day
is when my mind gets drunk
with thoughts of you
and no, i don't want to be sober
and i sometimes wonder
do you get drunk with thoughts of me too?

Dig a hole.

Name it LOVE.

Jump into that hole.

So, I'll be FALLING IN LOVE.