depression

The slow burn

i am one with hands hang they like meats today grab one that’s numb work it up and down hold it by the thumb gelatinous with bones the slow burning of hope has reached there at last but its heat doesn’t warm at all

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the rapist

I’m seeing someone. She knows a lot about me, more than I know myself. I’m finding out how hard it is to give honesty, such a lonely word. It really does wring your tears out. But there are more where those came from in these scenes of absolution, validation, and condemnation.

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A rainy day

Tie-dye me a shirt the purple and ochre of bruise. I’ll salt it away in a drawer, and save it for a rainy day like this. If only you knew what’s inside of me now, you wouldn’t want to know me, somehow.

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Carpe Diem

So. Not for a while now have I felt that I could point the way, suggest, show interest. So, let’s seize this day that’s given. Let’s walk by the water. A movie and popcorn. The second hand store. Please, take my hand. Are you still mine? Come with me. I promise.

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Something tells me

Some say it’s demons. The real kind you exorcise. They’re in vogue now. Drugs won’t help. We are too far away from our souls. Why would a demon want little old me? But, something tells me to get that gutting knife. It’s why I wear long sleeves in the summer.

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