Unhappy hour

Depression- what business do you have hanging around my springtime?

Every flower is blooming, every deer is fucking in the woods-

love is being had or held or handed over for a sales receipt and a new smile,

but here I am, okay, alive, LIVING, ALIVE, ALIVE AND ALREADY SICK OF THE GIFT-

just pissing out pity parties and panic attacks, pouting on the swings at sunset.

—

Big deep breaths- I can’t take them, I cannot have them.

No matter how many days I do not smoke cigarettes, I cannot have big, deep breaths.

I finally semi-got back some semblance of my once big, deep breasts and then Jon said that someday they were going to be saggy.

I couldn’t even punch him very hard.
I even throw a frisbee right handed now.
Fuck.

—

I am alone behind the bar.
and damn
them’s some big tears for such a little bitch.

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