thoughts on depression

a cold so complete it starts to seem necessary
a grip so tight it remolds your skin
leaving sunken imprints
until your bones crackle into
disfigured glaciers 
until you start to apologize for your offensive form
hunched into crescent moon
and with each assurance that 
you're a selfish inward tilted bitch
a vertebrae disassembles 
an electric stream intertwines your ears
and you mantra on your way:
I'm just getting buried closer to you
a tepid fingernail floats to the floor



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