Refuse me -and

my words, you treat them like daggers

homeless thoughts with nowhere to perch

they need rest, a safe place to sleep. Tonight,

my mind in a whirl and only pills can stop the twirl

swallowed with a bottle of Sailor Jerry’s rum -Yum!

regrets in the morning always come!

Still no plan to conquer these thoughts

memories caught. I have pocketfuls

reach in, they grab my hand -won’t release, until

I take one out, massage, breathe in.

Not going to dirty up my life, but I always do

slyly creep into sleep and vanish once again.

Poetry anxiety depression homeless mental well-being relationships suffering this writing life voice