Sadness grips our heart with
subtle subconscious tendrils made
of velveteen and all those dreams
we had as a child yearning for
the attention we’re getting now
Complimentary commentary ringing from
the rafters, loud, so ******* loud
we can hear them in our sleep
seeping through the sheets into
the brain where it’s rejected as lies
sickening, sweet, loving lies
and we try to say “thank you”
but it’s lost within a mumble
an awkward avoision of eye contact
we feel so loved yet lost in
humanity and the struggle to be
seen while being invisible on purpose
miserable worn as a badge of honor
a veteran of the war against identity
autonomy, that pesky notion that I
might have a right to exist
It’s hard to be suicidal when
curiosity has gotten the better
parts of judgement tied up
in a basement somewhere collecting dust
feeling rusted shut in a cage
made of fear and loathing
clothed in a disguise tried and true
and charming enough to get by
Crying, screaming, sinking
to the floor losing time in between
sobbing and moping up the mess
I guess there is something to
the idea that depression fits
like a pair of shoes you never
want to get rid of
but the soles are worn and now
the **** things are leaking but
they feel oddly and profoundly comfortable
too comfortable to change too
painful to keep walking and yet
the steps keep piling up as
mountains turn to rivers turn to
the dust of all creation
and we wonder what our place is
stumbling around in the darkness
praising despair and mourning
the temporary progression of time
Dec 9, 2025
Dec 9, 2025 at 3:16 PM UTC
Sadness grips our heart with
subtle subconscious tendrils made
of velveteen and all those dreams
we had as a child yearning for
the attention we’re getting now
Complimentary commentary ringing from
the rafters, loud, so ******* loud
we can hear them in our sleep
seeping through the sheets into
the brain where it’s rejected as lies
sickening, sweet, loving lies
and we try to say “thank you”
but it’s lost within a mumble
an awkward avoision of eye contact
we feel so loved yet lost in
humanity and the struggle to be
seen while being invisible on purpose
miserable worn as a badge of honor
a veteran of the war against identity
autonomy, that pesky notion that I
might have a right to exist
It’s hard to be suicidal when
curiosity has gotten the better
parts of judgement tied up
in a basement somewhere collecting dust
feeling rusted shut in a cage
made of fear and loathing
clothed in a disguise tried and true
and charming enough to get by
Crying, screaming, sinking
to the floor losing time in between
sobbing and moping up the mess
I guess there is something to
the idea that depression fits
like a pair of shoes you never
want to get rid of
but the soles are worn and now
the **** things are leaking but
they feel oddly and profoundly comfortable
too comfortable to change too
painful to keep walking and yet
the steps keep piling up as
mountains turn to rivers turn to
the dust of all creation
and we wonder what our place is
stumbling around in the darkness
praising despair and mourning
the temporary progression of time
avoision is a word now
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