The Depression Hours

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Vintage Publishing
Nothing can stop the bullet train

Submitted: June 12, 2019

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Submitted: June 12, 2019

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I feel the pain in the moonlight, deep in my bones,

 

Silently screaming inside, can’t fight my cravings.

 

This fire refuses to die, it expands and keeps razing

 

The once fertile ground, the ash poisons the air I breathe.

 

Once The Depression Hours hit, nothing can stop the bullet train,

 

Racking my brain, clawing at my eyes, trying my damndest to stay clean.

 

Tortured by the memories of my past, when I was swallowed by the machine,

 

Denial was the smokescreen, that I used to obscure the truth.

 

Twenty missed calls on my phone, and they’re all from you,

 

No matter how far I go, I can’t seem to escape from your shadow.

 

My brain is a disaster zone, can’t differentiate the wants from the needs,

 

No words come out when I open my mouth, walking this road, all alone.

 

Certified emotional support buddy, I’m the one to call when you need a friend,

 

Raised predominantly by women, maybe I inherited some maternal instincts.

 

Taking care of everyone else, hell I’ve been told that I’m a godsend,

 

Yet when I need a friend, I frequently find myself with nowhere to go.

 

Speaking to me, in a hushed tone, like a whisper on the summer breeze,

 

Tempting me with your lies, making promises that you cannot keep.

 

I thought we agreed last time, we promised that there would be no promises,

 

Maybe I’m a fool for believing it again, or maybe I’m suffering from a disease.

 

Crushed under the weight of the world, feeling like an outsider looking in,

 

Always been different, but now it feels like a curse, and not like a blessing.

 

I love women, but don’t care for sex, an elephant I’m not addressing,

 

A question that deepens my isolation, I feel like no one understands me.

 

Tortured by the memories of my past, when I was swallowed by the machine,

 

Denial was the smokescreen, that I used to obscure the truth.

 

I feel the pain in the moonlight, deep in my bones,

 

Silently screaming inside, can’t fight my cravings.

 

Once The Depression Hours hit, nothing can stop the bullet train,

 

Racking my brain, clawing at my eyes, trying my damndest to stay clean.

 


© Copyright 2019 Melancholic Wisdom. All rights reserved.

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