Death’s Kiss

As I lay in bed

I cannot ignore the weight of dread

for the months ahead

I practice being in the moment instead

Yet… it will not get out of my head

Spring is a time of life

For me,

it is strife

I question if I’d be better off dead

“Depression”

The doctor has said

Is that why I see red?

These thoughts lead up to

moments in time

A past I cannot rewind

A life I’d rather leave behind

Sobriety I celebrate

Myself, I berate

My depression

never late

Always waiting and ready to turn off the lights

I do not look forward to April nights

Exhausted from this fight

I haven’t the might

Clinging tight to my flag of white

When does this cycle take flight?

As my grip slips

my serration dips

The taste sadness upon my lips

Dare I call it death’s kiss

Perhaps it is me

it will miss