A Letter From Depression

I will love every inch of you;
the delicate blue veins
you nearly miss every time.
I will be the glass
filled with water
that washes the pills down your throat
and I will hold back your hair
as your sadness splatters the porcelain.

I have heard that you want me dead.
I refuse to go alone.
I will pull your hand from everybody
you reach out to.
You are never alone
when you have me.
I will comfort you
in the dark
drown out reality with my screaming
white noise.

Forgive me when I turn sour
like the spilled milk
you cry over.
I mean not what I say
I love you so
(I hate you)
I make you bleed roses
spreading on the white sheet.
Wilting flowers growing from your skin
finding new life
on the edge of a razorblade.

I will say goodbye
and trick you
into believing
I have left.
Then weeks, months, years
later I will come back.
Like an old friend
or an unwelcome guest
back to settle into my old home
in your heart
dragging your soul down.

I have heard that you hate me.
But when all is said and done
who will lie with you
in that box
and listen to the handfuls of soil
raining on the lid?
Six feet down,
I will not leave without you.


Siamese twins

Fall like children's dreams
into a new morning.
New me
new girl birthed inside the earth.
A ghost sticks in my throat
and a thousand voices burst inside my lungs.
This is the unseen side of me
the creature that lurks
just beneath the surface.
A white-hot woman who is in my bed
and I have been replaced
with the other one.
Like a flame extinguished in a dark room
she disappears
and shadows dance inside my mind.
The slam of a door
my swan song.
That other version of me
she is no more.
That girl that I once was
she does not live here anymore
the walls have cracked and fallen down;
skeletons from the closet
now lie scattered bones across the floor.
Nobody called her out to play
and sadness withered her away.
She doesn't come around here anymore.
You won't catch her around here
not anymore.