Depression

depression is all dagger no point

all fang no bite

well not enough to break the skin

despair leaves me dull and out of joint

hammering the door day and night

don't let it in

vampire at the threshold that needs no invitation

no banal immortality

just incessant vituperation

fake and flat and fat again

a man akin to a problematic mannequin

disassemble send it back

hang the flack on the rack

or set him up out back for target practice

before he tries to shove his treatise down your tractus

either everything is meaningless

or impossible and beautiful and meaningful 

just needing less

me

in it

when i'm circling the drain
i know it’s just my brain

but to say it’s only in my head

still means no escaping the dread

and fear of failure that’s invested

i’m infested

pickled in cortisol and digested

will it spread

yes

making me worth

less

it’s not a way of thinking it’s an end

it’s a fight to keep afloat

and too easy to descend