on depression

My dead moments
haunt me, now.

Their trusting little faces
are burned in my head.

I live this mourning for every little
Moment I forgot to adore;

for every little Moment I
neglected to value, and feed.

Little funerals might have been
nice at the time, but instead,

I just threw the lifeless bodies back in God's face,
screaming, It's broken, I hate you.

_