(March 2023. Depression poem. Healing is like that… you don’t get better at once. The waves just tend upwards over times, but you can expect some troughs on your way out even while things are getting better. The worst was behind me in December/January, but I still wasn’t my full self yet. I thawed like the spring, and by the summer I was on top of the world again. But this time still matters. For those of you this may worry, don’t worry; the last line is by far the most important.)
back again
empty bacardi bottle poorly hidden
scripted fighting self-forgetting actors
at least one crazy person is always awake
twin bed too small child wearing old body
peach ice cream reminds me to kill myself
but it tastes too good so i’ll never do it
Beatin' Paths ~~~ The journey to the Great American Novel 