Who doesn't love a cheerful poem about depression.

[apocalypsos]

I wrote this today for next weekend's creative writing class. I know Mouse is the other poem I want to bring in, but I'm not sure which one I want to workshop and which I want to turn in to my teacher for him to go over.

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Depression, n.: A pressing down


I have an announcement to make
to the aunt who called me lazy
for napping away my weekends
and the mom who ordered me to stop sobbing
over my fourth locked car tire in a month.
I'd like to have your undivided attention –
no, not to have another breakdown over
a Thanksgiving speeding ticket
or to flunk out of college all over again.
We need to have a serious talk about
that time I burst into lonely
childless tears over
my cousin's new baby –
no, the other time;
no, the time after that.
You should all be informed
I knock back Lexapro like Smarties,
combat your casual racism with Xanax,
have walked a mile uphill during
my very first panic attack because of
you, all of you.
I'd like to tell the world
how I know by heart the ten feet, three inches
from my front door to the impacted grill
of a speeding Mack truck.
I'd like to thank you all for that sweet loving way
I chased my breath in fitful starts on your kitchen floor
and you apologized to your party guests,
“Oh, that's just my daughter, the
shameless attention whore.”
You all deserve a medal, it can't be said enough,
for that handful of pills, those shiny
new bullets, that polished
razor blade all for me,
and those overflowing ounces of
satisfying sympathy.