I am slipping
Out of reach
And it’s freeing
But depression
Is slipping
Through the cracks
In my voice
My non binary
Voice of being
Gaily befuddled
I found myself
Laying on the floor
Staring at the ceiling
And that’s how I have conference meetings with depression
I want to
Be okay
With the present
But hold on a moment
I need to take
A call
A conference one
I want to feel real
Again
And I don’t know the next time I will
I want to take a tired walk
To the kitchen
And smash a few
Plates
And fall
Into
A ghost’s arms
I cant always be my own hero
Super girl is only so good
I just might have to call up gut girl
Because she can at least stomach me at my worst
I feel behind in life
And its so hard
To not compare myself to others
Because maybe my life
Isn’t a highway
Like other people’s lives are
I’d much prefer to enjoy the view and stare at natural beauty
I don’t get
The constant rush
That society puts on us
Maybe that’s why I like to lay on the floor
And stare blankly at the ceiling
But then my thoughts start rolling like thunder
And the cycling begins…