I brush my teeth too little this days.
I smoke too many cigarettes
And get far too stoned.
I can feel the depression of December creeping.
I hear it when the winds pick up and the trees start creaking.
I sleep for at least fifteen hours and the grey skies keep me tired all day.
Every time I sniff my nose I can feel the sadness of the weather being enlodged in my brain.
The trees appear to be dying,
They will grow back in the spring,
But will I?
My hair grows,
But my hope does not.
My nails grow,
But my comfort does not.
Will I survive this winter?
I am not sure.
Will I have enough cigarettes to get me through the stress?
Or will this foreign smoke only push me to be more depressed?
I can only hope this rest will keep me from doing something my family will regret.