Sometimes losing an appetite
Isn't a syndrome of an illness
It's a side effect
Of losing interest
In life.


F.Z.N

We poets
we love depression.
We don't desire it
we just gravitate towards it.
We seem so naturally fit
we can hardly think of a better couple.

We hate the trap it sets in place
we can't seem to avoid slipping in.
We lack that single, moral strength
we see and crave so much of.

We are obsessed and
we are loners, and
we wouldn't change that if
we could, for it is merely who
we are, who
we end up becoming, not what
we choose to be, simply an effect
we see in the cause of life.

I told him that he should watch the effect his words have on people
And when that wasn't enough,
I said to look for his name in my suicide note

you
are the cause
and the
effect

and letting go of you
would cause me
the greatest
displeasure

yet you would
still be the greatest
effect, I wish to not
remember.

Do sleepless nights yield heavy thoughts?
Or do the synapses firing prohibit silent slumber?
Neural highways at traffic jam capacity
Rush hour never ends when I retire

Electrical signals consistently skip and zip
Awake or asleep, thinking or dreaming
Mystifying visions of past, present and future
Entertain the brain while the body refreshes

A blissful recollection of pure jubilation
Transitions the mind into sweet meditation

My alarm becomes a synaptic disturbance
The ears at the receiving end of the siren
Alert, alive, living
But exhausted from the Prednisone Curse