Poetry

Broke

 

 

depression

The pills don’t work.
My bottle is dry.
All I want…
get this off my mind.

I can drink.
I can smoke.
It can’t fix,
what’s broke.

I can’t breathe
…sometimes
the pain crushes
…all the time

I can’t see anything.
There is dark black misery.

Then…
I start…

I lose my mind.

I get to thinking…
the pain wont quit.
More than I can take.
Hit after hit.

I can’t get you off my mind.
It’s like a cancer eating away at me.
My body aches with phantom pains.
Ghosts… of my yesterdays.

I’m starting to think
I will never be fine…

I’m just gonna drink…
I’m just gonna smoke…
but nothing will ever,
fix my broke

Photo by pef

 

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Willowbeithe ~‘The Willow Tree and the Birch (beithe) Charcoal and Paper to Inspire and Create for Writing and Poetry

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