I’m probably pretty
Common these days,
But I don’t get out.
So I
Wouldn’t
Know.
I’m always gapping out
Into oncoming traffic
Getting lost in the horizon,
A slow blur and sudden stops
I
Still stare out of the
Window on long winding
Days downtown,
The bus is less
Friendly
These days
And I never smile
Anymore.
Doing nothing is sometimes
Doing something more
Than waiting around to die.
And the motion
Makes me feel like I’m
Going somewhere.
My own personal
Public transit I can
Dissociate on and pretend
I’m getting somewhere in life.
It’s not a necessity
It’s a road trip away
From this empty room.
Somewhere important.
Your poems are super sad. I assume you’re a manic depressive? I hope life changes soon and puts you in a better place.
I am schizoaffective bipolar type, add, and substance abuse disorder diagnosed. But I have persistent depression. But uh, usually I deal with depression in poetry and they’re supposed to be sad and stuff.
Hey, that’s what writing is for…expression. If it helps even a little, keep writing.
hello dearest poet this is a crazy world right now so I get this but writing and connecting with people here is not doing nothing it is expressing yourself at a safe distance great write ❤️