The Brunt of Me
The brunt of me.
Ends up bursting and unsalvageable.
Maybe I have another pill in the corner of my mind.
Just churns into the slop.
And lets out a bellow.
Everything about depression.
Just teeters around in a crusty way.
But it is thorough.
Is loving as a centipede.
The brunt of me.
Doesn’t end, just creates spots in my eyes again.
Bursting and unsalvageable.
I had a plan to build a new mind out of blades of grass.
It stayed up longer than expected.
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