grams have a way
me to finally
so I need to stay
away, left puzzl-
ing on why they
ing me of
American Culture, Death, Depression, Poems, Poetry
This entry was posted on September 10, 2013, 6:13 pm and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through RSS 2.0.
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#1 by clinock on September 12, 2013 - 1:07 am
“…slimy despair” – YIKES…
#2 by Carl on September 12, 2013 - 6:38 am
Haha! I’ve had worse! But luckily, I am presently having better.
#3 by Hawkruh on September 15, 2013 - 1:45 pm
So often, for me, reading and talking about my mental illness brings me closer to it and acting IN it.
#4 by Carl on September 17, 2013 - 1:40 pm
This is a truth, I think. We need to work in the solution, whatever that is. Thanks for your comment.
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