Entering the tunnel of love, I ask myself ‘is depression dark?’, along with the sounds from cold, running watered glass, shattering my ears with a rush, my heart dying with a tightly wound crush!.
All at once, the winding tunnel wrenches blackness to daylight, the Kalashnikov sound of water flow, releasing into a ripple, joining what can only be described as wide mouths of screaming children on high rides, laughing, enjoyment to the full.
Birds in cages squawking revolutionarily speech to ice cream slurping brats, women crying bitter sorrow to each other, ‘men!, bastards!’, every one, big, young, old, impetuous and small, masculinity at the bar flexing muscles, standing tall, caring by not caring at all, beer swilling and a slippery fall.
Queueing traffic in the summer heat, all the time in the world to rest aching feet while looking at others in cars, also queuing to escape litter strewn streets of their holiday, puke ridden pools with sunburnt skin, white flesh displayed thin, tired from a long hard restful day.
Wonderful smiling faces surround me, “thanks for a lovely day”, they say, the very next day, ‘that’s okay’ I reply, thinking ‘I do wish I felt the same’ watching them cheerfully depart, still I feel a crushed winding of my heart, the day thunders away, I hear the sound of the river in my mind awash, lightening strikes into the night, another darkness, another fight, again I ask myself looking at the stars, is depression dark?.
All at once, the winding tunnel wrenches blackness to daylight, the Kalashnikov sound of water flow, releasing into a ripple, joining what can only be described as wide mouths of screaming children on high rides, laughing, enjoyment to the full.
Birds in cages squawking revolutionarily speech to ice cream slurping brats, women crying bitter sorrow to each other, ‘men!, bastards!’, every one, big, young, old, impetuous and small, masculinity at the bar flexing muscles, standing tall, caring by not caring at all, beer swilling and a slippery fall.
Queueing traffic in the summer heat, all the time in the world to rest aching feet while looking at others in cars, also queuing to escape litter strewn streets of their holiday, puke ridden pools with sunburnt skin, white flesh displayed thin, tired from a long hard restful day.
Wonderful smiling faces surround me, “thanks for a lovely day”, they say, the very next day, ‘that’s okay’ I reply, thinking ‘I do wish I felt the same’ watching them cheerfully depart, still I feel a crushed winding of my heart, the day thunders away, I hear the sound of the river in my mind awash, lightening strikes into the night, another darkness, another fight, again I ask myself looking at the stars, is depression dark?.
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