perhaps being told
“you are not alone,” is the
scariest of all
Like an old friend inviting you to come inside.
Familiar. Comforting.
It will grasp you in its arms and hold you close;
And when you're ready to leave, it wont let you go.
You will beg and plead to be happy,
and it will put up a fight.
It will make you think that the only way to escape it is to take your own life.
If you are lucky, you can break free;
and it will sit and watch you from afar.
Calling your name.
Welcoming you back into it's arms.
It will intrude your thoughts.
Make you think you are worthless.
That you're better off dead.
Just keep telling yourself that it's all in your head.
Keep moving. You will get far.
Depression is not who you are.
DISCLAIMER: This is only from my personal point of view and how my battle with depression has been. Even though I am trying to recover, the battle gets very difficult for me sometimes and I have to remind myself that I am not my mental illness. My mental illness does not define me.
I wrote I love you in the sand
The waves washed it away
Before you got the chance to see

I whispered I love you
Sleep stole you away
Before you got the chance to hear

Maybe this is meant to be
A missed connection
Between you and me
you are home to me.
your family is warm.
your home is inviting.
and when you talk, it
sounds like pretty music.

i trace my finger against
your adam's apple as you
whisper, low, into my ear
how beautiful you think
i truly am, inside and out.
it sounds like pretty music.

you watch me from across
the yard as i hold your
niece in my arms. a proud
smile graces your face and
my heart beats rapidly. it
sounds like pretty music.
to the boy who plays my heart like a piano
I’m old enough to remember when
coyotes all lived west of Memphis,
Tennessee, and the sheep ranchers in
Skull Valley, Utah, still paid a twenty
dollar bounty for a perfectly matched
pair of ears, not that I ever shot at any
of the gods’ four-legged creatures, but
by ***, those two-legged primates with opposable thumbs that shot at me, I sure as **** shot back, (although counting
coup by taking two ears that walked on two legs was frowned upon, even then,
as far back as I went, by Generals and
the public in general, I think), anyway,
the point I was trying to make is just this: just when and why and how(l) did the coyotes decide to cross the mighty Mississipp into Memphis as I mentioned sometime back before I digressed about the opposable thumbs and guns and counting coup and such ridiculousness, but still, the question remains and I’m quite perplexed about the spread of four-legged varmints more-so than the two-
legged illegal aliens in search of safer harbors and their children, caged up like so much vermin and varmints that Trump
and his angry too much Mussolini in his heart and hair, his hateful MAGA red-hatted, conceal-carry permitted redneck backers, Putin and his Russian hackers, and here I go again, oh boy, I swear I only wanted to know if coyotes spread so far east to howl at a new moon rising out of the Atlantic, and if they sought asylum, would Trump separate the pups from their Moms and Pops or build a wall along the Arkansas side of the mighty Mississippi, while I listen to those dreaming coyotes howl and call out to a new moon rising
up and out of my Atlantic like a welcoming sign for all coyotes to come and sit high on the dunes waiting and watching for a compassionate new moon shining free?
Oh, ccome on. Even if you’re totally ambivalent, or gods forbid, for Trump, can’t y’all at lest find some humor in these not so harmonious times?
America,
you’re free

to do what, exactly?
i tell myself
i’m not Your
prisoner
anymore,

my chains are Golden
so i must be free

surely

all the money in the world
will never buy me



that is
until
i think of how You’d
kiss me,
until You show me how
You’re all around
yet nowhere,
and there’s never any
escaping Your
vulturous capitalisation
Your invasive marketing
Your pseudosentimental
sensationalism
the beautiful
indoctrination of Your
talking head
the only one
we both want me to see

we both want me to think
i can **** the system
and i keep hoping i can
but You know
i never will

it’s ambivalent
but i only love You
because You tell me to
and i don’t know any better

i am surrendered
rendered legally tender
caratless

there’s no escaping
You,
You
the one i’d
blindly follow,
fall off this Earth
face first,
blindly stay
and never leave,
blindly believe
Your cancerous
Yellow ribbons
over my own
convictions
First draft. Don’t know how I feel.
at sunrise,
these whipping boys
put on gloves
and dig trenches
until sunset,
then they rest and
do it all over again
the next morning
but our bodies were
meant for more then
just eating, drinking,
*******, ******* and
working like a *****
so use your mind like
an icepick to poke
holes in the obscure
darkness of the world
to shine some light on
the porticoes of secrets
they’re keeping from us
and if the reasoning doesn’t
adhere to your doing,
stop and question everything,
challenge everything,
otherwise they’ll handle you
like some filthy peasant.
and you will be as useful
to yourself as a wet towel
and this undergoing hardship
will be the best
its ever
going to get.
Always out of reach to my preaching fingertips,
Righteously speaking of a dream,
Whose face they have never seen
Emotionally accusing the obscene,
Whatever that means..
What’s held back by the screen
As it’s sifted assiduously,
I-wish-they-were-forgotten memories
They always manage to creep back inside of me,
As a nightmare, “Aaand.. Scene!”  it’s all imaginary
Just rehearsal on repeat, it’s not happening, it’s not happening
Outside of fluttering eyelids, there’s no monsters in your sheets
Just the ones that breathe against your skull,
No ghoul but, a ghost- a howling specter that can’t let go
It makes its presence well known, in the darkness it is home
And I am merely a guest, in its humble abode.
A parasite on my soul, a gracious host;
Serving anguish paired with laughter as it toasts,
“To dying alone, and rotting with scorn straight through your bones!”

Death, carves a smile upon the eternal scowl scarring the earth.
Though he leaves me at sunrise, after eating **** as sleep’s dessert.

-SLuR
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