Depression

I awoke with a start. My legs ****** as if I had walked off the edge of my dream.
But there was no dream
they had spent themselves long ago.
I sat up and choked
on the black ash of depression…
……dark and bitter, filling my mouth…
leaving it parched and dry…
I can’t muster the effort to spit,
so I swallow the lump in my throat.
My heart like a dried and withered gourd can no longer remember what it was like to feel.
How many days, (or is it lifetimes)
have I been
numbed, dumbed and dim?
So empty and grey

I cannot move.
My mind turns slowly ….
like a sick, paltry shadow, crawling behind.
…. a hollow caricature of days gone by.

I know that I was once passionate and energetic,
And life more than a word.
My eyes flick back and forth mometarily
as I try to conjure up the images
and recall the times.
But like a wisp of smoke
they simply tease my memory
and drift away before I can grasp them.

I hear the voice of my family
as they move around in a different world
not a black and white like my own.
Like a video shot in some
colormatic
astounding
fluorescent  film.
They are in
high speed,
high definition,
high resolution,

their voices like sing song ….
…..Grate on my nerves.
….like trying to listen to a 45 record on high speed.
I don’t resent their joy because that would require more feeling than I can muster.

They look in on me
and I hear the worry in their voices.
the little one asks
“he won’t die will he, mom? ”
Poor, little, precious one, …
doesn’t know I am already dead.

I lay back down and close my eyes
Everything is dark….
And I am
empty and alone.


By Michael Jarrett copyright 2005
George Grogan