My Depression Has Sharp Teeth (Revisited)


the devilish imp lurks

around corners

slinks around me

looking for opportunities

to nip my skin

pull my hair

tie shoelaces together

so I trip

I fall

reminding me

that although

he has shrunk

in stature

he is not vanquished

not exorcized

his hissing voice

tries to insinuate itself

in my ear







I long to cover

his vicious mouth

with duct tape

or maybe staples. . .

he tries

to eat his way

back into my heart

gnawing on my ribs

droplets of blood

dripping from sharp tiny teeth

I pull him off like a tick

throw him across the room


and again. . .

he delights

dances a jig

when his taunts

his shaming

his bony fingers

finds a tender spot

evoke the sting of tears

in my eyes

pleased to see

he can still flood

my system

like a drug

leave me lost and alone

crawling on the floor


I consider carrying

a giant fly swatter

a baseball bat

to encourage him

to keep his distance

perhaps Hallmark

makes special occasion cards

for uninvited guests who

make copies of the house key

without permission

overstay their welcome. . .


© 2017 Revised © 2018 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved







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