My heart flat lined today. No ICU needed. it's the only way to go on. Transformer Cimi Death my other name says my Mayan zodiac birth chart and I go flat, in a terrible amnesic shock. when reality hits I no longer remember nor feel pain I am sustained by a strange heart rhythm beat. I did it once before very long time ago and it worked for years. phychogenic amnesia There's no feeling no love no hate no hope no dreams no waiting for love to be real. No bridal chambers no gold key exists to open this gold lock. My cave of wonders is sealed. In essence it's another kind of passing on. I need it here, not to stay flat on line. ~~~~~~ By: KArijinbba 8--2021
Depression is an overused word It might make an easy rhyme For poets who labor under the impression That they can climb to the heights of expression By showing no discretion with each and every Narcissistic emotional self-obsession confession.
But of all the poetic depression transgressions From the front of the procession To the straggling indiscretion The worst and least touched on Is that it's boring...
Depression and talk of it Leads to the inevitable compression Of each and every tidbit Or texture that prevents a poem from becoming a lecture
It flattens the curve It scans the sculpture A man of depth dwindles to a nerve
But depression doesn't let them see how it narrows their view The circle it drew around appropriate questions Ignore the censor and suppression Be vigilant of the slightest dispossession Starting to understand this oppression?
Don't let it convince you that you can see more clearly From the bottom of a pit You have no idea what you're missing
This became more of a psa than I intended. Written with the utmost compassion. Avoid boring people - james watson
I lay awake hour after hour while you did the same in the very next room.
You've told me before just how apprehensive you become when the page is empty and the stakes are high. You have high hopes, but when you bade me "good night and sleep well" I did see the flicker of doubt-insomnia-excitement hiding just behind your tired smile like a candle in the wind.
It is near impossible to sleep when you lie awake, when love lies awake in the next room.
But I am a coward, afraid of losing you long before I can call you mine. And so I while away the hours wondering if you want me to walk down the passage and crawl into your bed just as much as I do.
We lie awake instead, praying that sleep takes us and carries us across the boundary separating yesterday and tomorrow. To take you to a bright tomorrow me; into another lovesick Monday. But sleep evades us It is near impossible to sleep when I know you lie awake and love lies awake in the very next room.
So our first night in the house. Before the crush died of course. Why is it so hard to **** a crush?