An Unquiet Mind

Kay Redfield details her experience with manic depression; poignantly written with valor. I figured this is an appropriate place to put a couple of poems I wrote a few years ago in the depths of depression. *Trigger warning* "It's Crawling" Scratch and claw I can't rid myself of that impenetrable flaw. Fingertips tainted with dried blood. Hues of red, the red tide. Poisoned with glee. Swept up in that carnival ride. I'm already dead you stupid fvck. Call it suicide Beginner's luck. Don't you dare pretend to care. It is your garbage which you need to me to wear The contagion infiltrated. The virus decimated. "Below" Chained to the table Whisked away out the door In a stupor, catatonic On the frigid concrete floor. Now comes the owner To pleasure in her death Blurred by laughter Unaware, apathetic Does it really matter? Hey Sylvia If Nicholas makes two It would be an honor to make three I'm ready to live three thousand years as a ginkgo t ree.