The Aroma of Milk-toast

Depression is a choice

I make

The numb hug

Fog glaze dry throat

Rather cocoon then venture

Into another closed heart voice

That echoes the boom of silence

A sentence and gone

Not wanted reasons proprietary

A life wrapped in the throb

Depression is a choice

I make

The undulation on this plywood raft

Smacking oceanic waves

It is only a matter of time

I have always known

Hope is the cruelest bitch

Inserting faces, music, alcoves to remember the good

Depression is like gauze to stuff cotton shrouds

Block the idea of wanting

Get over it; move on;

Well it was all I ever had that crack hit of hope

Never firing into requite upon the ledge of faith

Depression is a choice

To hide the picture of God I kept in my soul

Repressing ego to see a greater picture of chain links

Not about me, love or punishment, but beyond comprehension

Better than believing in belief

Settled the oxygen could expire in the morrow

Never tasting but the hazards

Seeing the world as milk toast again

Licking the danger

Throbbing a zombie recycle rise to hide

The colors gray, black, blue

Depression is a choice

I make