We
could
have
had
it
allShe
saidBut
now
we’re
left
with
nothingMaybe
we’d
have
been
okayHe
saidIf
you
weren’t
so fucking
cutting
‘You Won’t Know Until You Try…’
Should
we
accidentally
meet
On that
busy,
bustling
street
Would
the birds
above us
tweet
As our
hearts
skip a
beat?
Or would I just blether on a whole heap of shite because I’m clinically depressed and unable to formulate a meaningful conversation with anyone of the opposite sex since my partner died so you just give up trying to listen and walk away thinking who the fuck was that lunatic and happily go about the rest of your life whilst I retreat back to my house wondering why the fuck I even bothered going out in the first fucking place?
Futile
Sometimes
I depress
myself
As these
thoughts
fill the
page
Why
am I
here
Wasting
everyone’s
time
Hoping
someone
will
engage
Foreboding
It’s all just so wrong
This shouldn’t be happening to you
Not as it hasn’t been that long
Since it happened to me too
I’m not sure how to act
And I’m not sure what to say
For there’s nothing on earth that can take the pain
Of what is to come away
Killing Time
Why do I
find the
wait so
hard?Is it
ego?Is it
pride?Or is it
because
I need you
to proveThat I’m not
completely
dead
inside?
The Looking Glass
Looking at you
Looking at meI wonder how
far into
my soul
you can
really seeLooking at me
Looking at youI wonder
if I’ll ever
believe
what you
say is true
Secret Anxiety
Sickness grows
Frustration shows
Conversation slows
But no one knows
Camping
The warmth of the sun on your face,
The anticipation of a road trip with friends,
The promise of tall tales around the campfire.
It’s the little things that bring the most joy.