i cannot tell if this is a depressive or manic episode,
but i remain assured that it is self destructive nonetheless.

i bear a coat without representation. one that may symbolize my crippling desire for a love, an anchor in life, especially in this time of sullen drawn-out chill, or my willingness to let it go and enjoy what's been served for me while i still have time to chew it, to enjoy life's smaller pleasures and confide in real friends and whatnot.

this is the outfit
i imagined i'd wear
on the crisp november night
that we first kissed

that i first felt alive