Midnight Depression Collection Pt. IV

Without Meaning

Locked away and
Re-taught to be an adult –
One week at a time
A slow ease into being ‘healthy’.
Normal is a far hike
For one of our kind

Average is a step that
Looks like a leap
That lands you
Over a cliff.

This is where the depressed sit
Pressed into a form
So naturally assumed
By lucky others

Brothers and Sisters
Whose blood flows
In a more steady drip
Than sporadic and
Dramatic and
Missing a way down.

A way through
A way forward
But our path ahead
May not look like yours
May not look like mine
We have no signs
To help us find
A purpose, a reason
A meaning to move us
Even an inch.

We are a generation without meaning
I lost mine when I
Stopped lying to myself –
Sometimes I wish I could go
Back. Pretend to believe

Faith can be useful –
Is utility enough of a
Moral Good
To justify ignoring
The Truth.
Can truth be about
More than just what’s real?

It wasn’t a crutch
It was a leg.
And now I am hobbled.
Humbled
Left to stumble
Amongst the
Fallen pieces
Once tied together
With invisible strings.

It’s there in the
Almosts
Green traffic lights
And
Car impacts
Grateful to the vice
That saved his life.
It’s not the initial strike that
Ends you.
It’s how you react.
The next act
After the involuntary.
A new knowledge
Not to be neglected
In the hectic
Reevaluation of circumstance.

Lethargy
Is our generation’s common
Interest.
West of Eden,
East of Wonderland.
It’s best after a
Sleepless night
and
Processed food
and
uppers and downers
and
The balancing of Being
Over and under
-Whelmed.
Nausea swells
With the self hatred
Bred of seeing
Others’ success
Swarming social media.
To see is to believe
I can’t
Believe
In what I can’t see.
I can’t believe
In what I do see.
I can’t
Believe.

Jessie

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