Verging on the personification of my depression
As my love, my torturer.
Slowly quitting pills happy, on a
Night with the moon shining sad in crescent
10 mg to 5.

Misty gloom fading until her ghost appears out of the blue, on a sky turned
Night—

Wonder if this is another cycle vicious
Mourning my dying depression,
Once my cherished possession

My pretty curtain let the sun shine on
While all of the rays of light I shot
Them dead—

To hide from a world ready to eat me alive
Or so whispered my fear hysterical to my ear.

Once in a blue moon,
Incandescent gloom finds me at my best
Drags me down a cliff I’ve built with your help,

I think I’m flying until I hit the ground. Running.
Dreaming I could escape the inevitable.

Rouge smudged on lips missing for yours
Smoke mixed with alcohol on a heart
Drunk and night cold.

You’re my curse my blessing—

Rouge smudged on lips looking for yours
Dancing smoke mixed with alcohol as
The scent captures my hair my clothes.

On a heart drunk and night cold
Blinded by “love conquers all”

It was my call to call you out,
Cut you off.

Before the madness within the magic revealed our ghosts
Of memories beautiful and painful now lost.

No longer lighting a candle, just cursing the darkness
I remember your eyes in the sun, I remember and witness
A metamorphosis of a moment, now sweet not sour.

Nothing new under the sun
I linger over your eyes iridescent locked in memory cursed with

Your absence,
My eternal moonshine of a spotty mind unreliable.

I have everything to lose and nothing to gain
Cursed with your absence luminescence

I have everything to lose and nothing to gain from this pain.
Cursed with licorice absinthe I’m under your influence,
Relying on some synth, some beat to keep my heart from
Flatlining alive.

I have everything to lose and nothing to gain
My mind magnifies all seeds of nuisance,
Births catastrophes unreal.

To tell my story make my gloom dance
So I can be born again through it all
I have everything to lose and nothing to gain
Until I make from the sourest of lemons some lemonade
Melodic and gorgeous to hide the filth heavy as a blackhole
Parade.

I set out to write a song about slowly quitting pills happy.
Part of the journey of making lemonade from the sourest of lemons.

Commentary

This is a prose-poem that was initially intended to be a song, but I discovered that sometimes the journey determines the result rather than the original intention, especially in creative projects. As an artist working on my album over the past few months, I have learned to embrace the process and avoid trying to control the end result. Instead, I have learned to listen and record before making judgments.

Lately, I have allowed my subconscious to guide the creative process while I observe and record. Once I have enough material to work on and edit, I stop the free flow, the stream-of-consciousness process. The piece I present here is an example of combining surrender and control to serve the purpose of the work and convey the message.

This piece is about embracing the creation process and welcoming what emerges. Songwriting and prose poetry are like making a puzzle, and the process can be more free and less restrictive. However, paradoxically, too much freedom can sometimes make it challenging to come up with new ideas, particularly when you have numerous options for telling your story in a way that resonates emotionally.