Depression
It took you late this morning,
between the coffee and the 4 inch blade.
90mph on the blood thin line.
You can already tell by the ache that it's in for the stay.
And the whispers never leave you,
like the state line scars you can never erase.
Contemplate another signature shrine
to that "melancholic teenage [life-long] phase."
You do know you'll never survive it,
and that you're destined to fail cause you cant help but try?
No prissy little love affair with Prozac,
will make a damn bit of difference to the how and the why
1/10/00
