Dysthymia

by danickname

Published August 21, 2016

12+

In Stuff

PreviousNext

I'm double-dipping my depression
every night I spend alone.
So I mark it with regression,
and more notches on my phone.
And more grooves on both my arms.
And more cracks in every bone.
Underneath the sass and smarm,
I'm more clay than I am stone.
And I know I should let go,
if I really want to grow.
But that means I'll have to throw
all my memories to the crows.
And I'd rather live with woe,
than forget the love that I've lost.

Comments & reviews · 2
User avatar
Biluata
Review
Biluata wrote a review Review · Aug 24, 2016

Hi there, Luata here for a review. Like I've written in other reviews, the topics of depression and the such are commonly written about so the hard part is finding an original way to present the concept (which I am also guilty of) but I thought you had some really nice points for this poem.

For one, I like your rhyme scheme and rhythm. The whole things just really flows when I was reading it and sometimes that is a hard thing to achieve in a rhyming poem.

My favorite line were probably "Underneath the sass and smarm,
I'm more clay than I am stone"

I just wanted to tell you that I can completely relate to this poem and if you ever need any support, feel free to PM me or drop me a line on my wall.
Yours,
Luata

User avatar
Kazeybear
Review
Kazeybear wrote a review Review · Aug 21, 2016

Hey! Kazey here for a review!

I love this poem. It's so sharp and yet soft and beautiful. I love the rhyme, and (to me anyway) it doesn't feel forced, which is a great thing to master. I also adore that the last line doesn't rhyme. It jars the reader, which (I think) is the desired affect. Even if it's not, it still worked very well.

I really don't have anything negative to say about this, it's just a beautiful piece. I suppose the only thing i could kind of say is maybe take another look at your title, but that's about it. Thank you for such a great read. And welcome back to the site!

~Kazey



Sometimes wisdom came from strange places, even from giant teenaged goldfish.
— Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena