S****y love poem No. 2

A Poem by Corey

I'm more than depressed about this.

When I’m depressed, the words flow like an intravenous feed in an alcoholic’s arm. When I’m alone I’m in agony and I’m by myself all the time. Sometimes it’s a struggle to look at people. There’s so much hatred inside me, but what’s worse is the dirty sock depression lying on my floor like a new growth on my back that has me wondering if I have cancer. And I hardly even know you but I feel like I’ve known you my whole and the words are coming quickly now, but it’s almost time to stop this. Stop this, this poem, this deep, hopeless feeling that I’ll never feel the way I want to. So I’ll just drink a little more and let the words flow because I’ve got nothing better to do. I can’t chase ghosts anymore. I can’t do anything. I’m lost forever in this eternal hell of disdain and longing. So I’ll throw back my head and laugh because I can’t help myself. If only I could. But I can’t. So come the f**k home and help me out. Come down the road where I live and listen while I cry and pull out my own teeth with pliers. Listen while I pray to you and curse you at the same time. Listen while I drink myself to death. Listen softly…keep listening…do you hear that? No…well I do. It’s the sound of me giving up, submitting, a martyr to the world. It’s the sound of death and life and love and misery…listen can you hear it? Don’t worry, someday you will.