Poems from Josiah Greenwood
depression is like
the angel of death
it comes into your home
and steals the breath from the lungs
of your hope, your energy
your interest...
O Sleep! the absence of thy gentle touches do I mourn
As though the soft caresses lovers make
But sharper, for I do the touch of others...
I hate the Fourth of July
Hate the fiery, loud jubilation
Hate the bangs popping bright
Like bombs in the night
Hate the casual inebriation...
I love you like the moon
Occasionally drawing hours of
Awestruck contemplation
But mostly
Cycling eternally into and out of view
Even when...
Please don’t look
Don’t look
Because I don’t know if I can say this if you do
Turn your back and listen
But listen to me
But don’t look...