Dirty Dog #Poetry #Prose #Writers

You think you over something until it turns around and bites you on the ass, that dirty dog gnarling right in your face, go away. Go away to some other far away place!

Time to get up, get up before you lose yourself, your dreams. Depression is ugly, it bites you on the ass and doesn’t put a band-aid on it. Depression is for the lonely who hides it from the world, from the people who claim they care. 

Love?  What is it?  Is it for the lonely only?

Never sharing, always alone.  

Where is my love?  I’ve got dry riverbeds etched on my cheeks,

that have been burned there by my tears. Some folks call them wrinkles. I call them dried out river beds, creeks that have been etched out by the river of tears streaming down my face.

What’s this all about?

I burn for love

Wildfire through my heart

Causing an earthquake of longing, that rolls down my body

in an avalanche of pain.

Who wants this leftover, lukewarm love?



The miserable one.

Why do I torture my heart

with this roundabout complaint?

Will I never find light to fill my heart with feathers,

instead of lead?

Who has darkened my soul to never breathe

sweetness, or to see sunshine again?


What have I done to deserve dire, dark and dread?

I’ve felt the dead, played

with the night-time way too long,

it is my closest cousin.

Now is the time to bring on the sun-

Enough with this gnarling dog!

You think you’re over something

then it turns around and bites

you on the ass; rabid, feral, and furious.

Who knows?

I just describe,

it’s all about what

resides in the darkest

depths of your mind.

I guess it’s like wanting

to be understood, heard

accepted, like “ah-ha, I get it”

How do you register it?

I can paint it in so many

different, similar, exact colors!

What the hell am I talking about?

This cauldron of fire churning my gut

has put me into this permanent rut!

You think you’re over something

’til your not.

©Jay Mora-Shihadeh

Photo by mark chaves on Unsplash

#Prose #Poetry #MentalHealth #Grief

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