Opposing dialects of the same depression
Feeling callow when we don’t commiserate
Paperback blues of a notorious sort
You got paid, but that won’t always encapsulate
Strike out to find something foundational
Charms of something more eternal than gold
Words are hollow if not properly digested
Cling to this disjointed life, if you be so bold
I don’t speak of the dark times
For I don’t know how to describe
Numb from the constant rows
Beating my head against the tide
All the while, I’m trying to keep in step
Attempts to parry everything exterior
Concurrent remedies do nothing
Resulting in the residue of the inferior
Intentions to escape these trappings
Quietly absconding along the coast
Ambitions to enliven another day
& thus a creation of a ghost
Stone cold stereotypes
We’re lost in the void
Sudden depression creeps
On edge; constantly annoyed
Deep breaths to calm
We’re all out of control
Transparent in our pain
A generation of lost souls
No visible injuries
Never fixed by a Rx pad
You’ll pat me gently
“Oh, it’s not that bad”
You’ll shove me back
& I’ll maintain & pretend
I’ll smile & laugh
Even when I need a friend
We’ll always ignore
The darkness that looms
You’ll never care
As long as I resume
Cavernous depression falling down without truth
Wet streets refracting the bitter twilight of the moon
Trenches & overcoats pulled tight to repel the world
A need for answers that cannot wait past this noon
Try to place everything perfectly into its correct box
Finding out the little control we have while we’re here
Knowing the results we wish to see once the sun rises
No need to stay dry when you’re drowning in this fear
Captain Q 