See, I wanted to
write a poem about depression.

I wanted to have these deep
moving lines.
These philosophical phrases.

I wanted to write a poem
about depression.

I wanted to write about
how when you cut open
your wrists
Flowers and glitter spill out
rather than blood and despair.

I wanted to write about
how when you drink yourself
towards blacking out
you throw up money and happiness
rather than shame and bile.

I wanted to write about how
when you put a bullet through your
jaw, flower petals and joy will
come out rather
than blood and a lifer ended.

I wanted to write a poem
about depression.
But there aren’t any pretty
words to go with depression.