Conception Poem

A smile so fragile
That the wind can make it break
Seems so realistic
But internally it’s fake
Vacant and alone
And yet my heart beats on
Eyes all bright and glowing
After the life is gone
*
Sober and aware
Of all that life can hold
Never quite turns out
The way that I was told
Depression inescapable
Existence carries on
Perpetually in midnight
I never see the dawn
*
Always I can feel
It growing deep in me
A burning, painful
Suffocation, never to be free
No penance or repentance
No word or thought or deed
Forever my
Immaculately conceived demon seed
*
Parasite or friend
It is so hard to tell
Was it produced by heaven?
Or somewhere down in hell?
And if a chance for freedom came
Would I run away?
It’s all I know, it’s part of me
It’s always been this way
*
Yesterday was my second month of not drinking. After spending a lifetime finding ways to escape reality, losing one of the more effective diversions isn’t easy.

It’s hard to really describe what I’ve been feeling the past week or two. I want so badly for things to be different than they are, and yet I know they won’t be. It’s not being pessimistic; it’s just being realistic and honest.

If it was something I had a choice about, I like to think I’d make all this depression shit just go away. Then again, if the shrinks are right and I’ve really had this since before I was even double-digits in age, it may be more of a part of me than I can imagine and being rid of it might be like losing a big part of myself.

As I wrote on September 13th of last year in here, fall always sucks for me. This year is no exception. I wish…

I wish that I knew what to wish for and that it could come true.