I’ve got the melancholy blues, So keep your blue suede shoes, For I don’t want to dance.
I’m in the mood of a tragic victim, Going through a personal bereavement, On the very last gasp of his awful life And now is the time to kiss my forehead goodbye.
I hope and pray I have a better afterlife And I hope it’s much shorter than my time on this Earth. For a life time of ****, I have endured.
I never did manage to find a cure, To this black smoldering effigy I call my heart. The solid stone prison, which keeps me trapped And stops other people feeling this ****, But stops me from feeling any happiness.
For my body is my temple and I worship at no altar, For this temple is now in ruins and my faith has been shattered, By this thing called love, which I have taken for granted, For it is now a cryptic Aztec mystery which I cannot master.
And the barbed whip I *****, Cannot tame this Trojan love, That has crept into my heart and eaten away at my soul.
when i see you, dark eyes, dark hair, small smile and a look that makes me plate myself and sharpen your knife for you, let me do it - let me help you, you look hungry
the way you eat though is so slow and soft as if you don’t want to hurt me in the process. if you could swallow me whole, i think you would, because you’ve tried a couple times but i always got stuck under your tongue in that small place.
we’re standing on the porch under the light that the landlord finally changed last week and i’m smoking a cigarette now too.
all licks and clicks of the tongue and side glance, i am with you. i’m funny and sarcastic and you slurp on it, ‘tell me more’
you’re digesting me before i even realize you’ve swallowed
The symptoms, I can see What’s hard’s to find the malady There are problems arising And the thought so paralyzing I fit in perfectly In the drawer of expired batteries Can’t find a use, but I’m still working Though I don’t mask well the hurting
There’s no mistaking me A 6’2” catastrophe Not the favorite, but I’m up there Just don’t read my list of errs I no longer apologize for myself Though I’m not opposed to some help These wings are malting, I don’t fly But I aspire for the sky
Can you see me falling Though on air seems like I’m walking The open wounds masquerade as scars I’m walking strongly, but not that far Partial truth are still lies Yet they’re sung lullabies I’m trying to find truth in me And am sometimes left out to bleed
The only apparent cure for this Is to live my life and do my best But life looks soft, but rubs on rough And sometimes best is not enough A prophet for thing in hindsight A tympanum of unjust and unright Crawling from the weight of memories To hope and find the malady
You're not depressed. You're just ******* yourself. Take a day off, Drink more water, Works for me every time. Better yet take a vacation. Go to Bali for shopping spree, The beach and the sun will do you good. Change your diet, you lack iron, obviously. Replace the word 'Anxious' with 'Excited' - It will make you feel wholesome. Take some yoga classes, Buy yourself a cute puppy, They increase endorphin levels. Ice cream is cheaper than therapy! Eat some of that too. There is also another cure - Jesus. Jesus loves you. Cheer up, honey! It's all in your head! Don't let it affect you! You're not depressed! This is all t e m p o r a r y .
open up first sip burning its relaxing i look out into the dark night, it's cold how did I get to this point again? no, I don't care, i just take a loooong sip, sip, sip, i like getting warmer it's not as lonely. i recently read that drink ing tea is a cure for loneliness because it imitates human warmth, even though just sip, siiip, for temporary time is'nt that just pathetic? swallow, burn, warmth, rinse siipp and repeat. cold air freezes, freesses frees me! the bottle is my best friend and sihps, now even my best friend is hollow wat a shaym, sh amme, shame