Thursday, June 19, 2014

This: a poem

This is the long walk home, alone,
these sidewalks that have become too familiar,
This is a two drink buzz 
that only makes you tired and sad
and you don't really want to go home
but you don't know what else to do
in this bar town.

This is the text message you sent
that received no reply,
because it was sent for the wrong reason.
This is familiar.

This is your friend giving you dating advice
that sounds so easy, in theory,
but you know that,
in the rough and tumble of real life,
it's going to be really hard.

This is your computer,
your most constant companion,
that knows all your secrets,
and it's a machine.

This is not a human,
and you want a human, 
but you feel like there is no one, no one, no one,
and you are alone, again.
This is the long walk home,
these sidewalks that have become too familiar,

and you need something different,
something that will make you believe 
and feel again that love is possible.
This is depression,
the familiar long walk home,
that no text message
or iPod song or clever poem
can make any easier.

This is facing it, the only way you know how,
to write it, write it, write it down,
and maybe, in the vastness of the universe
it will find a sympathetic ear
that understands this.  

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