You flabby lion.
You meandering drunk.
You self-medicating
self-pitying
self-destructing
squandered soul.
Look at you!
Pathetic.
Let ourselves go,
have we?
I’ve seen livelier
sides of meat
in the lineup at
the Sunday soup kitchen
in hostels
in men’s shelters
and retirement homes.
Don’t tell me that
you’ve given up already
because you look like it
a lot.
I look in your eyes
and it’s like nothing’s
looking back at me
and that’s just no good
so I’m ready to bring out
the jumper cables
the baggies of meth
a shot of adrenaline
anything
to get you going again
like you were before
whatever you’re
going through
this time.
Christ, you’re like
a broken-down car!
If need be I will
pick you up and
shake you down
head to floor
hoping for something
to come out.
Come on!
I know the tigers
are in there
somewhere!
hernanjmonzon.com 
I love this. Attitude of un-trite, charismatic, badass care!
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Nice! Thank you.
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The good thing is that we aren’t alone…we have a world-wide support group of people who know the pangs of depression, some a little, some a lot. The other good thing is when we don’t sit on it and seek some kind of assistance but I love that your words don’t appear as dark as they have to be for the subject to be depression. Nice!!!
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Thank you, Shirlena. I really appreciate your insight. Sometimes I feel like I’m screaming at myself to do something.
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Well we all need a good screaming at self from time to time I think-:).
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