My thoughts are crabbed and sallow,
My tears like vinegar,
Or the bitter blinking yellow
Of an acetic star.

Tonight the caustic wind, love,
Gossips late and soon,
And I wear the wry-faced pucker of
The sour lemon moon.

While like an early summer plum,
Puny, green, and ****,
Droops upon its wizened stem
My lean, unripened heart.

I swore
you were an
engravement on my heart.

I loved you from
a distance,
short of a stop.

You left,
without a
note left in my
pocket.

I have torn
ideas of what we
were and what
have always been.

A flower
that will never
bloom again.

Your touches
are burns on my skin.

A sting that will
not fade.


You were an engravement
that was never on my
heart,
only a memory
on my
skin.

I am just fine.
I am a son hiding my depression.
I'm a boy trying to making a good impression.  
I'm a friend acting like I'm fine.
I'm a teenager that's struggling.
I'm the dude sitting next to you.
I'm the one asking you to care.  
I'm your best friend hoping you'll be there.

I am depression.
I am the very thing that destroys lives.
I am the one that breaks friendships apart.
I am the one who's responsible for the scars on your wrist.
I am the one that prevents you from shutting your eyes at night.
I am the one that causes you to lose your appetite.
I am the one that makes you feel alone.
I am the reason you can't think straight.
I am your best friend when you went through a heartbreak.  
I am the gruesome murderer of your motivation.
I am the one that made you lose interest in everything.
I am the one that made you slack behind in school.
I am the reason you never made it to the school team.
I am the reason that you eat alone at lunch.


I am the reason that's you are a failure.

What am I scared of?
I'm scared of the dark.
Well not the dark itself,
but what might be lurking in it,
slinking through the shadows waiting to ***** out my life.
What am I scared of?
I'm scared of heights.
Because when I'm standing on the edge, looking into the unknown,
I have the overwhelming urge to jump.  
What am I scared of?
I'm scared of anything dead.
No not death itself, but the chills I get round a corpse.
The feeling of something beside me,
holding on to life.
What am I scared of?
I fear fear itself.
But what do you fear?
That's the real question.
What are you scared of?