​when you wish an earthquake would pave way for rubble to make you a cradle until the gravestone can be placed,

when you wish an airplane would crash into your window and pin your heart and heaviness away,

when youre breathing to hang on to life, yet want to give it away

when you can hear your lungs fill and deflate, making you feel like youre going to cave in

when you feel the noise around you is slowly going to pluck every braincell out of your head and not let them regenerate

when the music next to your bed is the only thing keeping you sane when footsteps make your heart race when clawing at your legs keeps the screams at bay when making another mark of metal seems too far away

when youre just yelling for the sun to go away because the sun makes people stay awake with noise grenades flying here and there it’s chaotic and a vortex of despair

am i being selfish

because noise grenades are borne by people trying to live another day while im here in my bed under blankets  

cursing them away

In my fingerprint, the thirteenth groove from the nail,
The one that curves neatly, until it breaks
(A scar, I think)
That's you.

There is a braincell in my skull that is red, not grey:
Red for love; red for anger; red for that STOP light that made me stall
(The kind of complete stop that scrambles up your nerves)
That's you.

Every eighteenth heartbeat is you.
Every flex of my left hand little finger is you.
Every wish on a lost eyelash, carried away by salty currents, is you.
Every swiftly sheared blade of grass  is you.
Every nerve ending in my lower lip is you.
Every cell of oxygen is you.

You are
Every
Hope
Every
Fear
Every
Dream
I ever had.

Put simply into words that in the end, are nothing;

You are everything to me.

Depression is
a legion footslogging through the Pennines,
a cohort of darkness and no hope of light.

a bomb in the braincell,
the dry well when all that you
want is a drink.

the ulcer that bleeds
a culture that feeds on itself.

depression is a lesson in lonely,
a many headed hydra
a Medusa to confuse you
and your own mind to
abuse you.

Depression is not nice at all.

12/16/06

1:25 AM




I'm still in your bed
out of breath
with beads of sweat
you put on my forehead

your face on my neck
I'm still not ready to forget
remembering those three words
that I know you said
with all my shyness shed
and the **** going straight to my head
every second spent
another braincell dead

so I'll make another bet
and not help but regret
that I never would let
you
in
and I still won't let you in
because you're my favorite sin
too early to stop
too late to begin.