Tag Archives: Depression

THE DARKER SIDE OF ME by Jeffrey Littrell

 

It’s the darker side of me

a side I seldom share

born from a place of anguish,

loneliness and despair

 

It brings to forth an anger

that I just can’t suppress

It’s a cold, black hell I dwell in

the spawn of misery and duress

 

It’s the darker side of me

there’s comfort in the pain

I feel sadness in the sunshine

cleansing from the rain

 

It’s all that one can do

far more than I can bear

to put one foot ahead of the other

when I honestly don’t care

 

I can’t tell if the chaos

or the sorrow’s winning out

I sometimes sit in silence

sometimes, I scream and shout

 

I wish I could be like you

and feel happiness and glee

for me, that’s never in the cards

It’s the darker side of me

 

 

 


NO COVER by Jeffrey Littrell

 

my guitar is all I ever hold

there’s no getting past the lies you told

left picking up the pieces I can find

trying to chase this darkness from my mind

 

life’s become a river I can’t ford

swept away by waves of minor chords

singing to the pictures on the wall

there, where no one sees me when I fall

 

it’s a miracle that I’ve even got this far

singing for Coronas, in a dimly lit dive bar

playing “Thunder Road” for twenty-five

I can’t tell if I’m dead, or if I’m still alive

 

a tweaker sets me up a shot of Crown

then asks me if I know the new Shinedown

my pain subsides as I proceed to play

the neon always seems to cut the grey

 

the waitress said she thought I sounded good

and clapped far louder than she really should

at night’s end, load the gear into the van

I’m driving to Valdosta, just a ghost inside a man

 


Black Ribbon, White Flag by Jeffrey Littrell

no one stands beside me
but my shadow on the wall
even in my dreams, I walk alone
my loneliness is painted grey
and hidden deep inside me
only to the mirror is it shown

I wish that I could take a knife
and cut the pain away
extract it like a tumor black with death
lest, this grief I carry
shall curse my remaining days
freed only when I reach my final breath

you don’t know what you have
until it’s gone, is what they say
I must convey I find this statement true
for the only time I felt alive
was when I held you by my side
the only one I’ll ever love is you


DISTANT BLUE EYES FADING by Jeffrey Littrell

come on back to me, my love
the winter’s coming on
I don’t think I can make it on my own

there’s times when I hear your voice
whispering in the wind
it’s driving me insane to be alone

I need you to take care of me
I’ve strayed far off the path
I’m burnt out and my ends begin to fray

I need your warm, wet kisses
and the comfort that you bring
I miss you more than poetry can say


DOPPLEGANGER by Jeffrey Littrell

he walks across the scorched earth
with no shoes upon his feet
while others ride upon a charted star

he holds tight to his misery
and drags it like a chain
behind him, as he goes from bar to bar

he lays awake in sweat at night
and listens to his heart
dejected and despondent in his room

the daylight finally comes,
yet for him there is no peace
it’s just another harbinger of doom

was a curse cast long ago
to bring forth absolution ?
when all is lost
is it a case of karmic retribution ?

the light of life shines bright for some
in God, they have no doubt
he stumbles blindly through the snares
his candle burning out


HER WAY OUT by Jeffrey Littrell

 

the only answer
is that
there are no answers at all
no karmic justice is done
what goes around
just keeps right on going

things just are
until they aren’t anymore
or in her case
they never fucking were at all

she locked the door
she knelt in front of the bathroom mirror
by the filthy toilet,
and shuddered
at the metallic taste in her mouth
it was somehow easier
than she envisioned it would be

she lay still
and small
the blood pooled and congealed
on the linoleum floor
finally, she wouldn’t hurt anymore
she was free from her torment, yet
all she did
was pass it on to me


remission, Rejection, RELAPSE by Jeffrey Littrell

 

left to bleed out

ignored and dismissed

like trash set out on the street

 

it is a world

for the confident, the beautiful

the stout of character

not the plain or disfigured

not the weak, crippled outcasts

 

hemorrhaging

coughing up anguish

with black bits of emotional bile

 

breaking down

still further down

with frailty as evident

as hair-line cracks

on a sparrow’s egg


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