Returning Home
When I’m depressed I tend to build
a nest inside of myself, shaped like me,
cocoon. Picture something
like a swaddled child or an electric car.
The fireworks outside battery-jump my heart.
Have you ever felt the weight
of the inevitable, crushing
your chest like a Coke can?
Yes, distance is perspective. I can see
unhealthy, like tasting infection.
Have you ever drove next to water
or across a bridge
and felt the quick fleeting urge
to take your car clean off the side?
Me, too,
but it’s been a while. Have
I told you, this poem
is about joy?
One thought on "Returning Home"
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I like the questioning at the end of it.
Consider whether:
Have you ever drove next to water
Should be:
Have you ever driven next to water