Streaming snarls pour down my heart
Chemical imbalance they say
Dopamine draining down my spinal chord
Pooling in my eyes
Broken shudders form as liquid joy
Slips out of my face
Eyeliner tire-tracks
Mark the swift path
The speed that happy left at
Saturating inanimate with synapse juice
Paper requires no liquid assets
Wasting ecstasy on cold white lines
Smile. Your mouth is drowning in your tears.
What I feel doctors should say instead of 'Dear, you're depressed...'