Depression is a man who sits
beside his window at night
Watching everything and
nothing at the same time
Wearing faded black pants and
a faded black top
He has a picture of his lost
love in one hand and a cigarette
-
slowly burning in the other.
His
features are lax. He lost
the ability to smile. Long
ago. A flickering candle
dimly illuminates his stained cheeks.
Tears no longer fall from his swelled and bloodshot eyes.
Motionless, he waits for a return that can never come.
His murky, flaxen hair is plastered on his head in clumps of
dishevelment from his many sleepless nights.
Scarred from the disfigurement of life, he waits.
His blood stained hand grips
her framed photo
With such veracity it is
almost shattered
He is tired and worn from his
journey through the wasteland of hypocrisy.
His teeth gnash in anticipation as he watches for her return.
Waiting still, the cigarette
-
burns down to the filter
Leaving yet another scar on
his
Cold, decrepit fingers.
Depression sits and waits
Sits and waits
Sits and waits
Love is long dead
Swinging from her noose.
She will never come
Yet he will always wait.
Magazine