O
pe
n Up Y
our Ey
es Once
In A Whil
e It's Nice.

"Don't worry
Be happy"
Bobby tells me

"Don't worry
Don't do it
Be happy"
He tries

"I'm trying
But I can't"
I respond
My head hurts
Fingers throb
Brain overflows

"Don't worry
Be happy"
It's on loop
Like it always is
When I'm anxious
And able to

"When you're worried
Your face will frown
And that will bring
Everybody down"
He explains

"I'm sorry"
I sob

I stepped foot into a forest,
And all the trees looked at me.
I tried to run away from it,
But there was nowhere to be.

And the ground below me faded.
And stared did the trees.
And I slowly became engulfed,
Their stare pierced straight through me

The ground was redly painted,
Stil staring was the trees.
Their leaves were deeply stained,
By the blood of what was me.

For a tragedy happened,
A ****** of my own self.
Of which I am the culprit,
And the victim as well.

It’s still a part of the story
No matter how far apart
It be
Whether or not you read

For me inspiration
does not come from adoration
It comes from depression,
or even regression.
And when im in session
is my doctors question
What did you write?

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----- me ------
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is it curious that we spare our souls
through poetry,
but remain closed books to our "family"?