Metal And The Gleam Of Truth

Cliché Depression

A touch on the wrist,
and a slip of my eyes.

I'd never believe that this
is me.

In a book of art,
I used in sixth grade,

there is an image
of a depressed me.

I think that is when my life changed.
And I broke away from forms.

Tonight, with rain and glare
of lightening,
I feel a heartbeat
in my wrist.

When I ask for your help,
please,
don't
dismiss me.


~Hammeh