Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

Tag Archive for ‘depression’


It’s been a while since I’ve talked to the clown with the framed degree. I can feel the same tremors roar their way home again. The volcano smirks and I can’t keep it down anymore; it bubbles in my pulse with a red froth. Dad has taken the blue road again; I can see him walking with his hands in his pockets. Away. Where the daughters are sane and the wives […]

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Apology Letter To The Man I Cried Next To All The Way From Oakland To LA

I AM SO SORRY! Your fleece—did my feelings wash out? They did though, right? For ten hours on a one-hour flight. That’s cat-year math…I never told you anything about me (like that I’m crazy for the superior pet) or asked your name. Nobody wants that though, yea? Just to not get projectile- feelingsd all over the whole flight—or at all. I know. Sorry, Sir…   Sir feels apologetic, subservient even, […]

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I want to be light again

We’re all glass cannons breaking as we fire. It doesn’t hurt one bit, but every bit. I can see with my whole body, but only on the Easter Vigil. Beds are not tombs, but the stone in front of the tomb. The coral light of day eats my corneas.   I am not edible in sunlight. When pressured, I produce a toxin called depression that alienates all my friends. Some […]

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One tenth

They don’t tell you that part of your heart dies when you have a heart attack. It’s something you end up reading in a book. They don’t know that parts of my heart are already dead and I am carrying little corpses in the hollow of my chest. They tell me that things will go back to normal, that kids are still an option, to just take it easy for […]

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