I try to write but the words fail.
Sit, think, smoke, exhale.
As I reach for the coffee cup,
I wonder if my time is up.
Have I forgotten you,
Is that what this is?
The reason I can no longer write this shit?
Or could it be this depression is finally lifting?
Maybe the all encompassing darkness is shifting?
Perhaps after all this time my heart is mended.
And my love affair with words has ended.
(Originally Posted 11.08.2019)
If there’s one thing I’ve learned
It’s that you can’t skip the stages
Even if moving forward
Feels like it’s taking fucking ages
If you jump too far forward
You only fall further back
And all you do is store your pain
For further down the track