“Repeat” a word not worth living

Maybe this should be easy to understand
but it isn’t, my depression speaks for me
of an addiction

it’s not what you think, I can’t eat it, snort
it, drink it, or inject it. but it is the knife
that never stops cutting, I’m standing on
the outside looking in unable to stop the

deep heart puncture residue scaring can’t
fight the feeling mind body craving the

words spoken and or written create the
false sense of sparks rekindling sealed
in a kiss and the circle is complete or is
it, the here I go again of things unfinished

I’m up sitting laying down thinking going
over and over the details of my life crying
it’s late I can’t sleep searching for a way
to change the outcome of everything that
led to this minute

the voices dance in and out around about
murmurings inaudible until they change
speaking clearly offering a way to see the

but it’s not the exit I seek it’s just a pass off
of my pain to anyone who cared and I can’t
do that to another

in public, I hold it together but alone I’m falling
apart standing at the edge where there’s not
enough footing to grasp the gravity of my dire

I put all my secret feelings out there in the open
only to watch them complete a new circle and
repeat a previous disaster,

actions louder than words drive me deeper into
confusion, this should be easy to understand but
it isn’t


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