Depression:
It rips you apart
Skin by
skin,
Bone by
bone,
Cell by
cell.

It's the 2AM thoughts that never leave your mind. Mind. Constantly thinking, hesitating, deciding, wondering,
Why?
Why is my mind a grenade of
pain; anytime sadness seeps into my bones an explosion of emptiness evokes me.
Alone.
I am an enemy of my own being; the creator of my own
darkness.

Depression:
It's a canvas of negative emotions.
The smile engraved on your face.
The black hole in your chest.
The bruises on your knees.
The blood on your wrists.
The tears in your eyes.
The pain

If you were the sky
Then I'd be the sea
And when you shined bright
It would reflect in me.
When you're at rest
Then I am steady.
If you wanna get rough
I'm always ready.
Past closing at the bars
If you show me the stars
I'll open right up
And cast them out far.
And on the darkest night
If you won't shine a light.
Then I'm silent alongside you
Until you feel right.
We'll meet at the horizon
Where lovers will stare
And wonder with passion
Why they can't meet there.
And you'll share me a kiss
As bright as two suns.
When they meet in the middle
I'll know the days done.
And I can tell that's your way of saying to me.
Goodnight my love.
If you were the sky and I were the sea.

The air is thick, my thoughts like putty.
                             Can't sort through the tangle of displaced dreams.
                           These lingering flies of memories long past continue to patronize me.
                             My mind is the fuzz of the television screen, the crowded room, the vibrating drums.
                                   Every ounce of my energy is wasted on the pestilence that rakes my eyes.
                                Each moment I come to the realization that time is an illusion, I feel the piercing gaze of Medusa in my heart.
        It skips the torture of ripping at my flesh and instead proceeds to lick the numbness right through the fibers of my skin.
         There's this funny little feline that uses me as her ball of yarn that, quite honestly, I've grown tired of.
  I don't know what it is to be confident in what I believe in at this point,
       because it is a foreign term, one determined to strangle me to the point of wintry solitude.

Death told her
           her life should end
and he was her friend

Calmly, she stole my gun
     she walked outside in the sun
pulled the trigger, set the mood
barrel to her head to conclude

I saw her head come undone
,,, Reached down, for my gun
Eyed the chunks in her hair
Now to my head |
                               |I draw a rose there.

I don't remember, any more,
The exact shape of your hands
As I held them in mine,
Caressed them,
Memorized the length of your fingers,
The depth of your calluses.

I don't remember, any more,
Exactly your height, how much
Taller than me
You were, where
My head rested on your chest
When you held me tightly close.

I don't remember, any more,
Your scent, when we lay together
Creating our own
Magic rhythm,
Matching our heartbeats as we
Touched the sky, together.

I don't remember, any more,
The sound of your voice, calling
My name as though
It were a song
Within itself, a precious treasure
You valued with all your being.

And I don't remember, any more,
The color of your eyes, the shape
Of your lips,
Only...
How your eyes crinkled at the corners
And your laugh, as you told me,

"I love you."