LOADED This depression lies heavily Upon me. The weight of the World, Crushing. My footsteps are so loaded. The passing words of strangers Pierce like screams, They are so loud. The outlook is bleak. My options have become exhausted, My time filled With empty friendships Or blank faces, Needy vultures Scrabbling for my flesh. All these vexed emotions, They fill the room Like black balloons. I will die here; A slave to the wage, Devoid of colour. Bled dry Like a tapped tree, Felled, Unconscious. Limbs like lead I look to the sky. Its greyness overwhelms me. Here I am, So disenchanted, Disengaged. Tired of all the Fine thanks, How are you’s, Hours like days, Endless waiting for buses, The cold. Behind my fake bake façade The doors are closing. This snake in the grass Will slither away, Unseen, unheard, Worn to a ravelling, Like the Tailor of Gloucester I have no more cherry coloured twist. I have drunk from Circe’s cup; The wine goes down too well. You all made everything Too hard. I could have had boats and beaches, Fish at my ankles in the Cool water, An open book, The smell of coconuts – My hand sweeps the sand lazily As I disappear in to the earth. |