sometimes i write extraordinarily dark poetry
and i kind of forget
once it’s out of me
how it could be read
interpreted
ingested and understood
by others
i’m just here getting my best and worst feels
out into the void
apologies to the void
for having to ever
absorb
this profound pain
my fingers want to be busy
without input from my brain
for my mind has been doing too much time
in repetitious actions
circling points
but never quite making it to center
and my hands could do the same
but forward action
seems to actually be measurable
in physical space
and the mind is an ugly place
to obsess
about others’
imperfections
the sin of being me
is punishable
through inside and outside means
and my brain can only get so far
in forgiveness
when it’s constantly fighting against itself
and my body seems to cling to living
as it falls apart
and resolves towards innumerable lifetimes
and my soul only ever seems to
chill inside/beside
all this angst going on around and around and around
but the dark part of me
[brain?]
[heart?]
[body?]
[other?]
it keeps reminding me
that i am punishable
i should be punished
through some means
hold my beer
i’ll do it
myself
[‘if you want something done right,’
right?]
the need to control
to know
to make the flow go
where you want it to
go
can only end in
disaster
you will know what you are in charge of
you will know what you can accomplish and cannot
you will know where your limitations are
where your knowledge leaves off
where your expertise
ends
let other people
know
decide
flounder if floundering is needed
(because sometimes to succeed
the floundering really is what’s needed)
if they are the ones in charge
then they are the ones who should take charge
and you
stay in your lane
merge if merging is asked of you
but only if you
can
do
the rest is left to the universe
when
in the course of
all my human events
will stress
and depression
take a back seat
and happiness come
to the forefront
of my
story?
the same imagination
that skews to
worst-case scenarios
and all the dire ways
we could all be fucked
in this society of ours
is the same one that shows me
there’s more to life than just
consumption
and
competition,
that encourages me to find
better solutions to terrible problems,
that proves to me
there are better
more equitable
more humane
societies
than this…
every coin
has two sides
this sword
has both edges
black must stand out amongst white
and we all know yin
and yang
aren’t balanced
if they’re not
together
[but sometimes i wish
this imagination would just
let me rest]
a big sad
an overwhelming wave
of the depression i know best—-
we should be friends by now;
i see them nearly every day,
but their company is always unwelcome
and puts a stop to any idea i had for my day
the worst part
of my particular depression/sadness/melancholia
is that it makes me feel
like all this writing
(which really does make me feel a little bit better)
isn’t
actually
worth
any
effort
at
all
chugging along
the energy it takes
to simply press a key
with a fingertip
expands
exponentially
and i start feeling
exhausted
the fits and starts and stops and hiccups
the pulsating of a pulse part of me wishes didn’t exist
the tears coming to eyes that somehow still can’t cry
the thousand-yard stare into the nothingness of existence
the loneliness felt even when i know so many feel this
and my best friend is sitting mere feet away from me
the vignette of darkness shading the corners of my vision
of my image for my life now
and this poem is taking too long
and has too many words saying nothing at all
all i want to write
is
depression is hard.
i’ve been pondering
stories
as lives
lives as stories
and i haven’t come to any conclusions
yet
except that
apparently
this is my current way
to dissociate
i often feel as though
something big is out on the horizon
[if only i could find it
or at least take steps to walk towards it]
and when i fall into depression
that big thing is to be feared
fraught over
fought
the ‘impending doom’ flavor of hopelessness
[and with today’s national and international news
who could blame me for
only seeing the
worst]
but recently
i feel i need
recovery
from events and happenings
that have already happened
[and are kind of still happening]
to me
i’m exhausted
and they keep occurring
and the feeling of something coming
is only getting closer
and i don’t know how i can meet it
if i’m still absorbed in dealing with
what just happened…
i can remember
being seven-years-old
and having such a hard time
swallowing one big multi-vitamin
while on our trip to florida
(so i wouldn’t get stick or anemic or something of the sort)
i have a visceral memory
of knowing it was good for me
but having the pill get caught in my throat
and no amount of water could ease the discomfort
that continued on down my chest
for nearly an hour afterwards
i probably cried
(i did a lot at that time)
and every day that pill seemed bigger
and the water less helpful
and i struggled and struggled and struggled.
today, i can easily take
one multivitamin,
five spiro pills,
a zyrtec,
a wellbutrin,
and a couple of other things, if needed
in one swallow and gulp of water
and nearly every time it easily goes down
i ponder what was wrong with me
at age seven
to not be able to take
one simple
pill
alone.
but this story seems to be lacking
an awareness of where i was at the time
both physically
and practice-wise:
not only was i starting from zero experience
of how to swallow anything whole,
i also had the average-sized throat
of an average-sized seven-year-old,
and i cannot go on
judging my yesteryear self
based on today’s standards…
but i know that’s what i’m doing
when i judge my past self
for putting on these coping mechanisms
that have grown with me as i’ve aged
and, more often than not, gotten in my way
but i was working with very little knowledge,
less stable hormonal levels,
and no real parental [or societal] guidance
and i also know
that i shouldn’t judge my today self
for where i may be in future healing—-
i still have to dig through the muck
and learn and grow
in order to get where i think i’ll go
so i guess what i’m saying
(to my own self and to you
if you need to hear this today, too)
is that ‘be kind to yourself’ is not just some
lily-livered
social justice
pansy-assed
liberal
sweet talk
in order to have more compassion
for yourself as part of the human race,
it is also
simple
factual
that you cannot judge yourself
based
on what you don’t yet know
or
how you haven’t yet grown
and i hope that helps
both of us.
kipventures 