chicken thursday

I
just
feel
so
depressed.

Like none of the successes
though in the small —
are lasting.

It’s like the small reliefs
the semi-daily reprieves
have a life of their own
and go on living without me.

And in moments of lucidity
I tell myself the falsest assumption,
that I will always be this way..

And even that wears off:

like a spell
like a smell
lingering just beyond my vision.

– – –

There is only so much room for trash:

even
the
waste
basket
overflows

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