I don’t think
anyone cares
at all
about me.

Maybe I haven’t been
the best friend to mankind

Too wrapped up in
my own carnage
too wrapped up in
my own disease
one I can’t talk about freely.
‘Cause believe me
Freedom isn’t me.

My classified reads

“Disabled man
Seeking friendship
For the promised land”

Sinking into depression.
Feeling no love.
No drug
can bring me up.

It’s funny how they label you.
Like its ok.
But unless you are physically disabled
you must try and stay the same.

I really don’t care anymore.

Trying To Be You Didn’t Work.
Trying To Be Me Doesn’t Work.

Can’t talk about the rat trap
underneath this ball cap.

How I’ve lost control
and don’t know anymore
where to go.

And if you would let me sit with you
And just give me a hug
show me  a little love
And show me
That I matter
at all

I might be happy.

Where have you all gone?
at one time you were word is bond.

And friendship was legit
and slowly everyone left
as I got sick.

Now I feel alone
and friendless

This sickness has swallowed me completely
and I don’t think I give a fuck. Anymore.

About you.
Or about me.
Or this disease.
Or 93 till infinity.
Or poetry.

How I would sign my life away
if you promised

It would be quick and pain free.

I’m done with you
and I’m done with me.

What a waste of talent

sick in summer’s silence.


Jason Wright is the founder and Editor of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly.