Depression is
"I should shower now, while I'm still feeling okay."
Depression is
Drinking water with every bite because you don't want to eat.
Depression is
Having an audiobook on while you sleep to keep yourself from waking up vulnerable.
Depression is
Taking risks to try and reach yourself.
Depression is
Vivid memories overlaying themselves on reality.
Depression is
Wanting to do your schoolwork but being unable to find the strength.
Depression is
Not answering texts because too much interaction tires you out.
Depression is
Having to work harder than everyone else for the same result, and being called lazy anyhow.
Depression is
Sleeping for 14 hours and still being tired.
Depression is
The guilt that comes with finding one person who makes you feel good, and knowing you will burden them.
Depression is
Being left by your lovers or friends because they don't understand.
Depression is
Piles of ***** laundry you wish you had the inner fortitude to do.
Depression is
Wandering the empty roads in the middle of the night because you can't sit still.
Depression is
Reading a book whenever you are in public to ease the stress.
Depression is
Not always
Visible.

Goliath:
You buy your love with bourbon creams,
cans of beans and full cupboard brims;
steal clothes to hide a torso of lies
twist that in with teaspoon brown eyes,
deeper than any holy bible’s spine:
found in hotel drawers,
away from the preachy, needy, cast iron shrine.

David:
Whilst the girl you’re with has nothing to give,
no family member nor money splendour,
you battle on with the train rides
cross country,
cross country train track guides.
Audiobook it; listen to it; learn it and write it,
write the letter she deserves, explaining
the ins and outs of your hidden nerves:
the nerves entitled ‘I don’t love you anymore’


My first poetry pamphlet, 'Homeland & Borderland' is still available to buy for only 3.00 GBP with free P+P to anywhere in the world. Both handmade and self published>> http://www.coffeeshoppoems.com/2012/11/it-is-here-homeland-borderland.html

When you make a mess
and both laugh.
When her hair gets caught in the dial of your watch.
When your glasses scratch her clavicle.
When hands are too cold
and goosebumps ripple up thighs.
When bodies knock
into furniture, and you have to stop.
When you spill water on the nightstand.
When you wobble the lamp
and shadows lean across the bed.
When her flesh dials a coworkers’ numbers on your cell
or the phone just rings.
When your “Harry Potter” audiobook plays on shuffle.
When church is in seven hours.
When the shower is too hot
and you jump back out onto the duck-shaped mat,
she laughs at you, calls you a wimp.
When the bath is too cold and the upper drain
gurgles like a drowning obese man,
there are never enough bubbles.
When she tastes like soap.
When you talk about your days and thoughts
wander to tangential curves and your mutual
acquaintance Steve, you forget what is happening.
When clothing gets stuck on heads, twist of feet,
elbow crooks, and in the wheels of an office chair.
When it is still on your floor, and your grandma visits
at lunch she smiles saying you found a nice girl.
When you try something new.
When you miss.
When straps and buckles never
unstrap or unbuckle.
When your fingers panic,
they are charged like blades.
When the moon.
When you’re late.
When you don’t want to put your bra back on.
When you hair is off kilter like a bonsai tree.
When it was almost like dancing.
When someone sneezes.
When you hiccup.
When she breathes.
When drool.
When scratches.
When bitten.
When church is in four hours.
When the laundry tumbled on.
When the oven started to smoke.
When you forgot.
When tickled.
When kicking.
When hurting.
When doors unlocked.
When his belt buckle shocks your navel.
When arms ache and legs cramp.
When curled the next morning in each other.
When it’s cold across the room, and
your clothes are so far.
When you miss church.
When eyelashes rub each other.
When the sun.
When you try to talk.
When moaning.
When sighing.
When screaming.
When getting back.
When breaking apart.
When getting back.
When your lips smash together like trains.
When you fold the cloths after.

/ Blade Running \

Making memories,
Wondering who sent for me,
If it wasn’t you then who was it,
& if you didn’t send for me then why are you here next to me,

Self preservation is the first law of nature,
From animal to human from human to machine,
Antisocial butterflies restlessly cramped in our cocoons,
Part plant part mineral part alien fully human being,

Sure we converse with other persons,
But we converse more with ChatGPT,
Hey AI I have a question,
Do ‘Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?’,

Even Philip K ****,
Doesn’t know what the answer is to this mystery is,

Half man half nocturnal machine,
Half real life half diurnal dream,

Were we born or were we made maybe it’s the same thing,

Maybe there isn’t a difference or so it would seem,

“You don’t believe,
In miracles because you’ve never seen a miracle.”,
That’s why you’re willing to **** for a fee,
& why you’re always so sterile & cynical,

& maybe that’s why I write,
More than I do anything else,
As a way of trying to jog your memory,
While running up the bill,

At the bar trying to wash away,
Things that still affect me even though they can’t be totally recalled,
In this present day sci-fi anti-climactic dystopia like Arnold,
Call me Jack of All Trades & I’ll call you Jill of It All,

Getting drowsy,
Must be the pills,
On a plane,
On my way to somewhere else,

Travel so much,
Sometimes I wake up & don’t know what country I’m in,
It’s a dog eat dog world so cat naps can be dangerous,
Especially when you drink while sleep walking on Ambien,

A creature with amnesia & beautiful features,
How’d you become such a miracle,
Are you really that perfect,
Or is that just the way I remember you,

Guess it doesn’t matter either way,
Because maybe I don’t even remember you,
Maybe you’re not mine because maybe you never were,
Maybe nothing is mine not even the memories I have of you,

Maybe it’s all just programing,
Maybe we’re all just programs,
Programed to play our part,
In The Grand Program,

Programmed by the wizard behind the curtain,
Or by the woman behind the glass wall,
Maybe in the end we have the same thing we had in the beginning,
Which is absolutely nothing at all,

Maybe that’s why I’m making memories,
Wondering who sent for me,
If it wasn’t you then who was it,
& if you didn’t send for me then why are you here next to me,

Self preservation is the first law of nature,
From animal to human from human to machine,
Antisocial butterflies restlessly cramped in our cocoons,
Part plant part mineral part alien fully human being,

Sure we converse with other persons,
But we converse more with ChatGPT,
Hey AI I have a question,
Do ‘Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?’,

Even Philip K ****,
Doesn’t know what the answer is to this mystery is…

∆ LaLux ∆

From ABC: The Beginning Of The End
Available worldwide on all platforms and in all mediums, Audiobook, Paperback, Digital, and Hardcover

Agatha Christie audiobook
drifts out across the dark room
all she can think of is of the one o' clock
shipping news, a swaying, seasick tune
calling to far off boats & sailors
adrift alone somewhere
thinking of their homes
a cold beer, she thinks will do
she would be writing
but no words come
she draws the duvet cover
closer round her shoulders
her lover's ghost
watches her silently

So many pages on the floor,
which are mine and which are yours?
You once said,
I am a book with large font.
Sometimes I wonder
if I am just a book that speaks out loud.
That does the reading for you.
An audiobook?
You're a heavier book,
filled with calculated text
and silence-
but never any blank pages.
I hold you up to the light
to read while laying
and fall asleep
until I feel the weight escape my hands
and slam down
HARD
on my face.
Keeps me awake.
Keeps me in pain.
The only way I can read you right,
is from above.
But these torn pages read of only love.