Author: Button Poetry

When I finally sucker punched my childhood bully, the adults were all so happy I was finally made of fists.

All songs are about how much of someone we can take into ourselves until we both become dust.

I have tried on all of your clothes, and still nothing fits but the blood.

Nothing knows the sound of abandonment like a highway does, not even God.

If you don’t lock your windows at night sadness can creep in & lay next to you.

I’ll be damned if I play side-chick to my own identity.

I would have climbed in the jar if he’d asked me. I would have torn the good wing off myself.

buttonpoetry:

From Sabrina Benaim’s book, DEPRESSION & OTHER MAGIC TRICKS.

In the beginning, God told Eve she did not need a man to exist.

I wonder why the depression test asks me to rank how often I cry and not why I don’t cry at all?