For a sunrise or a sunset, you're manic or you're depressed. Will you ever feel ok?

But I talk in the mirror to the stranger that appears our conversations are circles,always one sided Nothing is clear Except we keep coming back,to this meanin…

You see your breath in the air as you'll climb up the stairs to that coffin you call your apartment.

And I sing and sing of awful things The pleasure that my sadness brings.

I think everybody, no matter how rich or poor, how young or old, has a phase in his life when he's depressive. It's reality. Not a lot of people want to talk a…

There is a luxury in self-dispraise; And inward self-disparagement affords To meditative spleen a grateful feast.

Words have the power to release pent-up emotions as well as to define them in rational and meaningful terms.