In my depression I think about my past lives

Who were revolutionaries and troublemakers


Fighters and hunters and those who opposed tyrants and oppressors

They would always die in the best ways


And always questioned authority, even when it wasn’t right 

But it was ok


Their crazy minds, that were always turning and twisting

Never had time to idle or look back at themselves


Never had the time to seek Paxil, or Venlafaxin

Or Prozac or Lamictal


We that can never rest always let the TV run in the background

And the radio, or whatever won’t stop


And require the sound of water running and

The sound of the ground always passing under our feet


We feel the 5000 quiet moments in a day 

And never understand what anyone is ever talking about


Or why anyone is ever talking



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s