depression rests it’s silky smooth wings over my cerebellum
it slides it’s fangs into the opioid receptors and feasts a feast of famine
for a moment
brief
yet
prolonged
it feels like the lips of the love you long to kiss so desperately in your dreams come true
then
a cold oily sense of discontent seeps into the pit of my stomach
was it always like this
so empty
i can’t quite recall
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
feel for you bro, a vacated heart
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it has filled since
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Its about time for all the mopping around the blog with heartaches and loss and passion
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hahahaha
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