“It’s just a phase – it’ll pass.
Only exists inside your head.
Just be happy and you’ll see.
Sadness is nothing serious.”
“So simple – yet so complicated.
At the same time: white and black.
Big and blurry; small and spiky.
Vicious, but far from great.”
“You’re exaggerating things.
Stop wasting your time and mine!
Depression is a sickness
You shouldn’t pretend to have.”
“Thorns in my veins yelling silence.
In my lungs there are spiders of my sore.
Too real to be a dream.
A vision far too concrete.
Feeling endless – Oh, the horror!
Of being immortal here on Earth.”
“Go see a psychologist.
You’re insane just for attention.
You have a house, family and food.
No reason to be so immature.”
“Not any more – not ever!
Waiting every now and again.
Or knowing where to go.
Ready – oh, so ready!
Ready to leave it all.”
“Why?” you asked.
“Zee”, I said.
We never talked again. I do not wonder the because.