Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Some More Writing About My Depression

The only phone calls I get are the 30 or so a day from the three credit card companies I owe money to

I have no one on Earth to talk to

I talk to my muse, Brit, because there is no one else

She doesn't talk back

I feel I am going to break

In this entire planet of painfulness

There is not a soul for me to talk to honestly

This is a form of death

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