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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Horror/Scary · #1971624
A surreal poem meant to explain the visceral despair that surrounds depression
let us redefine security
    (a poem)


            an apple that tastes of cotton
            a styrofoam cup decays
            a knife made of fingernails
            and a dial tone is rotting at the bedside


  in the country of Depression

                      there’s a white sun that drizzles rain
                      there’s a plastic flower that smells of rot
                      there’s a thanksgiving turkey locked in a closet
                      there’s a corpse that wears fishnet stockings
                      there’s a train covered in barnacles
                      there’s an air conditioner filled with mold
                      there’s a tiger with worms in its eyes
                      there’s an ironclad ribcage that screams
                      there’s a wine glass that begs sobriety
                      there’s a chair with crooked teeth
                      there’s a girl who dreams in coffins



                a rat that only screams
                when you close your eyes

a fire that only burns
when smothered in carbon

                    a tongue that only
                    knows how to taste
                    because your niece
                    can’t stop coughing



         
                                                           glasses that only read
                                                           facts that ring false
                             
                             yellow lined paper
                             that claws at a lizard

                                                           a casserole made from
                                                           the wilting fears of children
                                                           and only eaten by those
                                                           who wish to starve more




in the country of Depression
         a nursemaid speaks in needles
         and the children drink psychosis
         the elevators lead to purgatory
         and windows are made of dust



                                       misery is currency
                                       i’ve broken a vase
                                       all meals are eaten
                                                         RAW.
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