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 Oct 2017 Andrew Rueter
Vale Luna
I think I'm depressed
Maybe I'm just being dramatic
But how am I to tell if depression is this feeling of constant static?
Is this what's got a hold on me?
A grasp on me?
Trying to suffocate the life out of me?!
But just because right now, I can't breathe
Doesn’t mean
Depression is the thing choking me

I might be depressed
But I'm fighting hard to keep it suppressed
What does it feel like?
It feels like pain
It sounds like agony
And it looks like strain
It tastes like my emotions being flushed down the drain
It smells like there’s something rotting inside my brain
A noose around my hope
Locked up with a chain
The throbbing in my head
Is not just a migraine

I think I'm depressed
But what if this is normal?
What if I'm just calling for attention?
An honorable mention
In the mental illness section
Overthinking
What's honestly just sadness
The cause of this madness
So I'm sinking
Drinking in this lie
In a debate against my own mind
Trying to find
The source of this
Should I tell someone?
Or let it be dismissed?
But if I let it go
Will I keep drowning in this abyss?
How will I know
If I can get over this?
Without medication?
Or a therapy session?
Building up my frustration
So tell me this:
Have I lost my foundation?
Is my mind splitting apart?!
Is this just the start?!
Would keeping my mouth shut really be smart?!

I might be depressed
Depression is defined as severe dejection
But what type of severe would put me in that section?
I want to be saved
But my fear is too great
Am I making this up?
Am I sealing this fate?
All these questions seem to be worsening my headache

The thoughts in my mind are a mess
This suffering isn't easy to digest
It feels like there's a weight on my chest
What to do now, I don't know what's best
I'm reluctant to address the rest
The ending now, you could have guessed
I have no words best to express
But I think that I might be depressed.
Dedicated to / written for: Whitehair. Ily girl <3
 Oct 2017 Andrew Rueter
Bob B
Tim Murphy° of Pennsylvania--
Proud of his anti-abortion stance
And long-time anti-abortion record--
Was caught doing a different dance:

Murphy's former mistress wonders
How the man has reconciled
His pro-life pretensions while also wanting
Her to abort their unborn child.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, Mr. Murphy.
But maybe the cloud has a silver lining
When you step down from your position,
For word is out that you're resigning.

Oh, you hypocrites! You love to decide
What's good for other people. How true!
But you do what you **** well choose,
For rules do NOT apply to you!

-by Bob B (10-6-17)

°Congressman from Pennsylvania's 18th District
 Oct 2017 Andrew Rueter
F Edward
somewhere over the rainbow
what does it mean?
is there a *** of treasure at the end
for all to glean?

doubtless
it arcs on and on forever more
like life chasing the unobtainable
but fun to try and explore

somewhere over the rainbow
what a silly little lie
we all live under the rainbow
and should learn to appreciate the sky
Take the stage
Then take a bow.
Touch a heart,
Then skip town.
Skip a stone,
Then sink below.
Leaving ripples behind.

Take a breath,
Then let it go.
Let's take a ride
On the undertoe.
Kiss the sky,
Then dive below.
Like a breaker,
Turn to mist-
Drift.

Spreading wings,
Lift off in flight.
Melt the wax,
Drop from the sky.
Like a comet
Shining bright,
Burn to stardust on the wind-
Drift.
So often throughout my life, I have felt that I merely drift through people's sphere of being- like some benign ghost seeking a permanent haunt, or a wind born seed looking for a place to take root.
 Sep 2017 Andrew Rueter
Vale Luna
I was a rose
Turned black with decay
Until my petals fell to the dirt
And I stood naked
In front of your audience

I was a rose
Watered with vinegar
Fed with cyanide
Loved by your ego
And broken by your hands

I was a rose
Torn from the roots
Cut off at the stem
Dead before I was alive
And rotten before I was ripe

I was a rose
Stabbed by my own thorns
Bleeding from the inside
Draining my crimson color
Into your palms

I was your rose
Painted black by your lips
Brushed to dark perfection
My expiration date long passed
As you sniffed my last breath away.

I was your rose.
As always I'm dreading just leaving my bed,
I've got a hundred thoughts threading fog through my head.
Another day to live, twenty-four hours of fight,
I don't have much else to give; I used it all up last night.
Am I the only one to see colour in different shades and hues?
'Cause lately this world seems duller, the Earth has lost it's muse.

My body is aching through every bone and joint,
and my will is breaking, for I no longer see the point.
I grasp fire just to feel pain and stare at the sun to go blind,
It seems I've got a plastic brain and a melting mind.

I'm stressing out in a traffic even though I'm in no real hurry,
but in my head details are graphic of every fear and worry.
Another week to go through, seven days of pointless waste,
you know the feeling too true, you know it's feel and it's taste.
Am I the only one to see colour, instead of just white and black?
'Cause lately this world is duller, there's so much that we lack.

My body is aching from my head down to my toes,
and I'm just faking the knowledge no one else really knows.
I wonder if I'm sane, and if I'm alone and confined,
it seems I've got a plastic brain and a melting mind.

Why does it feel that every person I meet isn't real?
As if they're stuck in a dream, or following a line down stream.
Does anyone else think like this?
That there's something we all miss,
'cause wasn't life a gift of bliss?
Instead we regret and only reminisce.

My body is aching through every limb and pore,
and no matter what you're making, you'll always need more.
Can't be another link in a chain; bound, locked and intertwined,
I suffer from a plastic brain and a melting mind.
I wanted to pluck stars
For your eyes
But I fell
Just a rung short
So I plucked roses
From the rose bush
As pink
As the blush
On your cheeks
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