Live or die,
That’s the way
That’s the choice
It’s your say
Mental illness,
Fragile health,
Life’s a ***** -
So tough it out.

When sorrow hits,
Drink it up, let it
Sit, soak it in,
Feel it rob you
Of your mind and
Swipe the breath
Out of your
Chest, let it
Steal your cherished
Rest

Therein lies the
Choice, the split,
The time to die,
Or put up with ****
Accept it now,
Accept it all,
Take in your fate
And deal with it.

Exhausting it
Is to be so down,
So put it out
And douse your
Thoughts for
Now, because
You’ll have to
Pretend to be
O.K. to get
On through
the year, the
Day.

If i could romanticize
The present like i do
The past, and let my
Worries tumble gently
Down and off my back,
I’d be free of it all,
Clean and chaste

Struggling not to suffocate
In the tight cellophane tent
That encases my mattress,
Gasping, reaching out but
Hand can’t break the barrier

I’m surrounded by cheap
Reflections of myself, this
Bed is their shrine -- i pay
Homage to the demons
By listening to each one
And giving them a piece
Of my mind

There’s a world out there
That i don't know, outside
This drear and bleary *****
Room that keeps me captive

i dream of the day
where i’ll be able to say
i know how to enjoy
Free Time, Me Time, Time
Alone with no crimes,
instead of yearning for
hours at a job i deplore
because i can’t bear myself
anymore

If i could write as fast as i think
I’d be drowning in pages,
Choking on ink,
****** and beaten, a
Prolific cesspool sink

maybe if i chilled my mind
with an icepick drill
the world would sit icy still

search and destroy
stalk and avoid
sulk and deploy
empty and void