Symptoms

things aren’t bad

when any malleable silver is my friend

 

things are bad

when pills looks like

tic tacs

 

something’s gotta give

i am crying like hell

i laugh in front of you

it’s 1:27 p.m.

 

i’m enticed

i trip over the edge

i don’t eat

i’m fed up with life

full of angst

 

i am depressed and i make jokes about being depressed

they’re so hilariously true

 

existence is unbearable

i’m exhausted on 10 hours of sleep

 

too weak to hug

back

my arms loosely around your waist

you’ll have to hold me up while i lay

limp

This poem is about: 
Me

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