depression is
My mind is a stemless wine glass.
More resilient, they said.
Less breakable.
But it has shattered.
When crystal breaks, can it be made new?
When I fall apart, can you make me whole?
They say when you're sad you feel nothing.
But I feel the muzzle of a pistol in my mouth.
Depression is the last pennon on a string at the circus.
All the rest have been torn away.
Now the circus is dead
and the field is trampled,
and I'm waiting waiting waiting
for the wind to set me free.
My mind is a stemless wine glass.
More resilient, they said.
Less breakable.
But it has shattered.
When crystal breaks, can it be made new?
When I fall apart, can you make me whole?
They say when you're sad you feel nothing.
But I feel the muzzle of a pistol in my mouth.
Depression is the last pennon on a string at the circus.
All the rest have been torn away.
Now the circus is dead
and the field is trampled,
and I'm waiting waiting waiting
for the wind to set me free.
Last edited:
