today I am a stale biscuit,
difficult to chew…
Mental Health
my feet drag,
I cannot reach my bed,
as long as I’m wallowing,
let’s dive in the deep end…
I didn’t say
you shouldn’t
worry about me…
I don’t need anyone else…
I don’t carry
a poker face
with me,
not sure I’ve pulled
it out of the vault…
is it relaxing,
is it recharging,
sometimes I can’t tell,
sometimes it changes…
If sky is demon,
stay inside….
I am hungry
and I could eat
are two different
states of mind….
flat on your back
is as good a place
as any to decide
you can’t go lower…
winter blues
give way
like an unlocked door
to anxious red-orange…
