Dominick Damo

You protested life so much
you made up your own friends
No one can see them but you—invisible conversation.
Your hands, too weak to hold a cigarette, body dissociated.
In your mind, crossing the street as if the cars do not exist.
Yell out to your friend—“there’s one!”
speech too rapid to process, brain waves connecting with radios and stars
You hear everything.

©2012 This work is the property of the author.

Posted on December 12, 2012, in Dominick Damo, POETRY and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. MM welcomes Dominick Damo with three very fine poems, this is the first.

  2. A moving poignant poem, unsentimental yet vibrant with rant or rave in the heart life.

  3. Mental illness is so awful. One day I was very depressed, sitting on the bus. A guy in a wheelchair got on the bus and he was so cheerful and happy. Then there is guilt for thinking you have it worse than a guy in a wheelchair. I guess some things just shouldn’t be compared, anyways.

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