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