I wrote this poem years ago. A feeling.


Flavors of Depression


Why does it taste like repression?

Like ashes in my mouth

The aftertaste of afterburn

Tiredness resting on clawed feet

Perched upon my shoulders

A headache from Hell

The devil in the entrails

Vomit up stress and the pain

Shaking on the bathroom floor

Every day it pours

Even when the sun is shining

Outside is where I never go

Lost in the dog food aisle

Frown inside wearing a smile

Can't remember your name

Brother, where art thou?

Everything's the same

It's like coming out

To a church full of Lutherans

Damned for every sin

Blowing smoke up your ass

You think I'm OK

But I'm out of cigarettes

Can't stop crying

Can't stop trying

Alone in a crowd

Feel like I stole everything I own

Even the words to this poem.


© Anne Westlund 2007




Poetry by Anne Westlund
Read 1141 times
Written on 2007-10-12 at 08:08

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