Email Poem

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Poem

When do you start feeling better?
A day, two, less or more?
You turn from wet to dry, flying feather
You say it’s depression because you’re sore

What do you feel as you claim it?
Because I feel like the deepest, darkest hole
I’m not down deep, having a fit
My body becomes the maw, dark as coal

What do you feel as it’s happening?
I feel numb and torn and full of dread
Just to get up as it keeps shredding
To the point when I wonder what it’s like to be dead

Can you be cheered up?
Nothing fulfills me
I need something to fill my cup
As I keep drowning

Do you feel things at all?
Because I couldn’t care less
As pieces of me fall
Creating a tear-filled mess

You romanticize my tormentor
My mind, I can’t enter
No one sent her
She, he, it was here all along
Sitting at the center

In my head, no one asked for its presence
But it raised its hand for attendance
To make life go into evanescence
If you have it so bad, give tips and tricks
And then I shall have acquiescence

If you have a spare soul, lend her
I’ll need it for the next recrudescence
If you know my blank pain, please succour
For if you truly don’t, you have a twisted definition of depression

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