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I fought with gravity and lost.
With all humility the cost of this was just a skinned knee.
I've found thought lights over my head
have left the lasting impression
that they can only ever be wrong.
With this mask, this face in denial;
with that forced but fitting smile.
Quaint walks going down memory lane
proves that it needs to be repaved
and my pants are ripped to show the price.
Fading in and out of consciousness
thinking 'is there any relevance
and can I write depressingly
about now being happy?
Dear friend, dear depression:
[I'm] Now affording the ability to make
poor decisions. [Poor decisions] no longer haunting me.
I don't miss you.
I miss what I think I deserve you to me to me.
I fought with gravity and lost.
With all humility the cost I paid was just a skinned knee.