You think you over something until it turns around and bites you on the ass, that dirty dog gnarling right in your face, go away. Go away to some other far away place!
Time to get up, get up before you lose yourself, your dreams. Depression is ugly, it bites you on the ass and doesn’t put a band-aid on it. Depression is for the lonely who hides it from the world, from the people who claim they care.
Love? What is it? Is it for the lonely only?
Never sharing, always alone.
Where is my love? I’ve got dry riverbeds etched on my cheeks,
that have been burned there by my tears. Some folks call them wrinkles. I call them dried out river beds, creeks that have been etched out by the river of tears streaming down my face.
What’s this all about?
I burn for love
Wildfire through my heart
Causing an earthquake of longing, that rolls down my body
in an avalanche of pain.
Who wants this leftover, lukewarm love?
I,
Me,
The miserable one.
Why do I torture my heart
with this roundabout complaint?
Will I never find light to fill my heart with feathers,
instead of lead?
Who has darkened my soul to never breathe
sweetness, or to see sunshine again?
Why?
What have I done to deserve dire, dark and dread?
I’ve felt the dead, played
with the night-time way too long,
it is my closest cousin.
Now is the time to bring on the sun-
Enough with this gnarling dog!
You think you’re over something
then it turns around and bites
you on the ass; rabid, feral, and furious.
Who knows?
I just describe,
it’s all about what
resides in the darkest
depths of your mind.
I guess it’s like wanting
to be understood, heard
accepted, like “ah-ha, I get it”
How do you register it?
I can paint it in so many
different, similar, exact colors!
What the hell am I talking about?
This cauldron of fire churning my gut
has put me into this permanent rut!
You think you’re over something
’til your not.
©Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by mark chaves on Unsplash
#Prose #Poetry #MentalHealth #Grief
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