Dead Roses

(Written November 11, 2008)

I write myself into a depression
And begin to sob
It's 3 am and there's no one to call
No one online, for once.

So I'm alone,
Alone as only depression can make you

Who am I?
Am I just a mass of
engineered chemicals?

Do I really want to know?

A call to my therapist, Help!
And a recall of all my past mistakes
They hurtle around inside my head
Until I want to pull my hair out

Oblivion!
I need oblivion.

Dead roses and five Klonopin later,
I feel numb, finally.