(10.23.2011)

Oh yes, I’ve hit rock

Before. Just because
I’m always so bubbly
Does not mean I have
Not seen the depths

Depression, with its
Dank smell of moldy
Tears, overused lies,
Its icy fingers tasting

Flesh, crawling up
My veins and sending
Chills through my heart.
If you only knew my

You would see the
Way he’s manipulated
And mangled it. That’s
My rock bottom.