Contented Mind Amiss
A poem explaining how depression is the contented mind amiss.
Published in
Nov 16, 2023
A forest of thorny vines,
metaphors of holes dug & their deep depth.
A switch for sunbeams cut off, hauled off to a dark cellar.
More than boxes you can’t think out of
& chittering gossipy rats in
the nooks & crannies of hard, cold walls.
The hopelessness: nonsensical, valid.
Deep feelings opposite of orgasmic pleasure.
“Hang me,” you beg.
“Choke me,” & not to a partner.
“Waterboard me,” even, for it’s what you “deserve.”
No matter convictions nor judgements stacked on the pulpit of fire,
you are sure there’s a shovel to hit you in the head
before six feet deep you go in the dirt.
Depression: the contented mind amiss.
