“the most lighthearted poem about depression i’ve ever heard”
gathered up all my sads and focused real hard and eventually turned them into pretentious ””art”” !
my dumb face says more stuff here:
i have not been well.
i feel turned off and i feel askew
and i am not sure what i could do
there is this feeling in my gut
that makes me think that i am hunted
not in the sense that there is danger
but that the aim is to change
it’s like looking into a two-way mirror
and rather than seeing anything clearer
there is a layer of dust and smoke
clouds the screen, like some kind of dream
where you cannot decipher if it is real
or just the sounds of your brain trying to conceal
what’s really going on.
the hunt, while not one to gain a prize
is rather the sense that somewhere lies
something observing; silently watching
no threat to me, birds just flocking.
but it’s there.
when i reach out and touch the mirror,
things, for one, tiny second, become clear.
while the cool glass melts into her fingers,
while the shaking image splinters
while the cool feel of home disappears
there is a glimpse of something near.
the girl in the mirror, is without a doubt
the one who this story is really about
but then, someone explain so i can see,
how it is, that this girl is a complete and total stranger to me.
there is a hunt that i am not a part of
stumbling through green, crushing foxglove
vibrant photographs in a shining magazine.
so, how do i make myself feel real again?
how do i make myself feel the way fresh bedsheets smell?
how do i wipe away the soil
but make sure my roots don’t spoil?
the first step to reinvention is let it be.
stop trying to guess, stop trying to foresee
the universe knows what she is doing
step back for a second and let her do the choosing
if someone is fading despite the way you
never will, never want to
let them fade.
its much better to be the person who cared too much
than than the person who couldn’t find time to call.
secondly; decorate your body creatively rather than destructively.
notice flowers blooming on your skin
the way that your cheeks rise when you grin
turn your freckles into blinking airplane lights, that are moving across you
bite the bullet and paint yourself like a night sky
look through the darkness and see where intelligent life may lie.
tear it all apart and stick it all back together in a way you never have before.
creatively, constructively, seductively
tell yourself “i belong to me”
thirdly, stay up until dawn, when the sky is pale
the world resets every single day without fail
and you should renew alongside it.
fourth is about the energy that surrounds.
these are the people who make you feel like you’ve got both feet back on the ground
and your head is finally sitting on your shoulders
they make you feel bigger, brighter, and bolder
in times when you don’t feel anything, really, at all
fifth, treat memories like broken glass to remain uncut
while some of them are round and clear and provide a shortcut
to times when things smelled like rain, honey and tartan skirts
these are free to hold, and they won’t hurt
you can turn one round and in a second of heat there is blood everywhere, all over the bedsheets.
handle with care; indulge only if you dare.
penultimately, know that nothing is ever really ours.
live with the awareness that things rot like flowers-
pretty while they’re there, but still living.
everything around us is just another a quick thing.
changing form and shape without warning
but that’s what saves it from being boring
so fuck it, give yourself a new coat of paint, every now and then
because why not? you’ll never ever be in this second ever again.
the last step of reinvention is do it as often as you possibly can.
i have not been well, and thats alright.
by tomorrow i’ll be brand new.