Extra Large Soul Cries in My Poetry Slams

My heavy heart and heaving chest pour out the tears that my soul cries

The gunshot painting the back of my head makes me wish it were all too real

Choking on the words I can’t say, whispering between the sobs

I’ll grab the covers and pull them o’erhead and try to hide, but it’s so hard when the monsters are inside.

Take your baubles and shiny paper and trade them in for something real.

Give me a pill, pour me a drink, pack me a bowl

The doorbell rings, Depression is here! Now the party can really begin.

“I’m just here for a moment”, he says while he changes the locks.

Rose colored glasses are for rose colored asses, pedestals so high, just so I can jump and fall face first into your lie.

Happiness like a mirage,
An oasis in a desert-mind
Running hard, pushing far
Another shot at joy gets marred

This anger boils over, this bitter isn’t sweet, I spit out these white lies like cracked and broken teeth.