Would there be a motzart if
austria had antidepressants,
and should I wipe my memory
if I had the chance
not of the memories, but of the
emotional component.
Why when depressed do I draw
so much better, and why when
depressed does my mind
ruminate over and over on details
that I write and why when
not depressed do I just
function and not care
about drawing or writing?
Or do I?
How much is my own myth making,
my own sense of my own
Motzart?
This is a blog of some poetry I wrote at different times. Mostly it's about my broken heart.
Monday, September 28, 2009
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