August 19, 2023

where did these sads come from?
why do they appear
in the midst of what should be
a happy time?

how are they somehow
related
to that happy time?

like i can’t let myself
get swept up in the moment —
i need to remind myself
in every moment
of joy
that despair
and tragedy
exists.

like if i let go
of the depression
that runs everything,
the glue that holds my whole being
together
will loosen
and split
and i’ll fall
apart;

and i just want
to be
myself

[someday]

[someday]

June 24, 2023

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

June 17, 2023

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?]

May 28, 2023

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]

May 22, 2023

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.

May 14, 2023

the mood settles
down
down
down
deep into the depths of the frown
my marrow molds me
not the opposite
and i need me to be
a little more flexible
a little more malleable
a little less conditioned to find any stress/any sadness
so permanent
that i find myself affixed to my future of
‘i’ve got the morbs
forever more.’

but can i/will i/could i?
[should i?]