So glad I don’t feel like this anymore. Be well.
I’m doing such a miserable job of pulling
The axe out of my skull;
becoming more a part of my socialized
Physiology and less a part
of the world that buried it there.
My thoughts mull over words like habit,
Pattern, and will. It stands to reason
That one who wants to do something
As badly as I want to do this thing
Would be able to muster up
The will to do it;
Yet, I still walk the maze, my hands reaching above my head
For the handle of a tool that doesn’t exist.
23 January 2001—English 399; Advanced
Poetry Writing Workshop; Dr. Jean Anaporte
2 Replies to ““Depression”–a poem”
Well. That’s definitely a way to describe depression. *whew* The oppressiveness is palpable. I like the way in which you show that depression seeps into your physical life.
I would never have imagined depression as an axe embedded in the skull. However, the way you describe it makes sense.
I can see a shape in the way the lines are constructed. From top to bottom: a ceiling, something dripping from the ceiling, a pot to catch the dripping, and a platform the pot is resting on.
That’s a lot of thought. The thought of something physically in the brain is one I took from Chris DeGarmo from Queensrhyche. I think the song is “Damage,” but maybe “I am I.” It was one of those off the Promised Land album. He said nail; axe felt more fitting to me.