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"Depression"
by Jeph Johnson
so, I've been asked to re-present
to the many who don't understand
my spiralling descent
into depression and how it began:
first you ask if it's for real
or part of the plan
or has God set up an ideal
illusion called circumstance?
unfulfilled, your desires fester
and dreams screech to a halt.
gumption rolls into a messy
ball of somersaults.
like dizzying masochistic leisure;
relaxing in warm blood.
not lazy, just complacent pleasure
to realize this flood
of warmth, oozing from a piercing
hole stabbed in my flesh,
is more reason disappearing
from my consciousness
