__________by Tasha C. Miller

Depression is my bitch.
She's my mistress
She always reminds me
How fucked up I am
What I don't do anymore
And why I don't do it
And who I'd rather be doing it to.

My bitch keeps telling me

You don't bring me roses no more

You don't make love to me no more
Pull me off the bed and fuck me on the floor.

You don't love me no more.

You don't take me no where, no more.

You don't kiss me,
hug me,
talk to me,
listen to me,
call me,
email me,
write me,
think of me no more.

You don't never
You don't ever
How come you don't
How come you won't

I don't cause bitch you depress me
I won't cause bitch you depress me.


Copyright © 2001. Used by permission of author. All Rights Reserved.

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