Litkicks Message Board Archive

on depression, love and depression

Posted to Action Poetry

it's night and i'm counting my fears
my pain and my tears
i no longer have a beautiful mind
i lost it in this war to myself
just another useless casualty
and i never heard of gosford park
but it sounds good
sounds better than sitting in the bedroom
where i lay my head down every night
and where i wake up every morning
and my lord of rings will never marry me
cos to him i'm just another whore of moulin rouge
and maybe he's right
cause i've fucked my depression so many times
that i can't even count them
and maybe i didn't even live this poem