Clutter

Like a dumpster filled with things people don’t want

My mind is cluttered

I can’t focus on one thing; my mind starts to wonder.

a dictator of what’s beautiful and true

a malicious invader that makes every encounter blue,

always in disorder, a recorder of everything wrong.

Depression is like a song you hate to sing, dancing to the tune even though you don’t know what the words mean.

My mind is clutter

It’s torture

© T. Carey

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