December
Tuesday 18 January 2011 photo 1/1
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Where did my depression take form?
Was it somewhere peaceful, or in the middle of a storm,
I can't recall the details, I couldn't keep them in store
my psychosis went so deep, felt like I was reborn.
Nullified, retracted, pulled back into a childs mind
Feeling left out and laughed at and left far behind.
The strength that usually would hold up my spine
was ripped out and busted, and took so much time,
that by the end of it, I didn't know who I was.
I couldn't remember what caused all that fuss.
I was confused and started to cuss,
screaming and arguing, vomiting puss.
I became an animal for the second part;
a cat with nine lives, it was a pretty good start.
No matter what mistakes I made, I had a strong heart
which would live through a lifetime, and play it like art.
Hoping for so much more than change.
Feeling so bland that even sleeping feels strange,
so many thoughts that I could rearrange
into completion and perfection for a longer range.
I miss the sensations of my sensational sickness,
and I hereby wish, with God as my witness,
at the top of my list of life's many wishes,
I'd like yet again to dance with my mistress.
I feel as though I've been the victim of a theft.
And Death may be the only thing left.
Where did my depression take form?
Was it somewhere peaceful, or in the middle of a storm,
I can't recall the details, I couldn't keep them in store
my psychosis went so deep, felt like I was reborn.
Nullified, retracted, pulled back into a childs mind
Feeling left out and laughed at and left far behind.
The strength that usually would hold up my spine
was ripped out and busted, and took so much time,
that by the end of it, I didn't know who I was.
I couldn't remember what caused all that fuss.
I was confused and started to cuss,
screaming and arguing, vomiting puss.
I became an animal for the second part;
a cat with nine lives, it was a pretty good start.
No matter what mistakes I made, I had a strong heart
which would live through a lifetime, and play it like art.
Hoping for so much more than change.
Feeling so bland that even sleeping feels strange,
so many thoughts that I could rearrange
into completion and perfection for a longer range.
I miss the sensations of my sensational sickness,
and I hereby wish, with God as my witness,
at the top of my list of life's many wishes,
I'd like yet again to dance with my mistress.
I feel as though I've been the victim of a theft.
And Death may be the only thing left.
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