The Letter

April 29th, 2020

“I think you’re depressed”
An unusual love letter
Your words perplexed me
Saying you wanted me to get better
You listed examples
That I didn’t want to see
Mental illness wasn’t something
I could grasp tangibly
I don’t feel sick
I don’t want to be dead
And I’m not always sad
But you sensed things unsaid
At eighteen years young
I didn’t want to accept
That these feelings are normal
So I left them uncheck

Right Back At The Beginning

November 29th, 2009

I miss the security of knowing when to be let down
that’s the only thing I could ever count on you to do
and I thought I lost that
I thought I overcame that feeling
but moving on
means getting let down
over and over again
maybe it’s what I deserved
maybe the past caught up with me
maybe what’s meant to be will be
and this is it
nothing more
this is all I have to be looking for
disappointment seeks its way to me
there’s no way to leave
this is it
this is what I live for
I’m sick of being a waste of time
I’m sick of having nothing else to find
I’m sick of mixed emotions
I’m sick of thinking of devotion
I’m sick of winding up where I was at the start
I’m sick of these feelings tearing me apart
I’m so tired of not knowing what to do
and ending up crawling towards something new
but in the end, it never works out
and from the start, I’d always have my doubts
and the end always comes
so unplanned
and it always ends that way
this is it
nothing new
I was nothing special to you
years ago it was all the same
I’m sick of being played, game after game
but if that’s life, why am I still living
I’m sick of ending up at the start
right back to the beginning