I take walks by myself

outside

thinking about

the things in my life

and the things

not in my life.

I see blackbirds flying out in flocks

and then I see that

I don’t really see them,

or I do

but the moment is

too soon

and then I am thinking again

walking in circles

staring at

odd people

wondering if I will fall

in love with that

girl in green one day,

or if I’ll marry the one

in blue and

then I think about love,

the mythology of it,

its symbols of hearts,

and the future looks so bright

but it’s all in mind

and this is when depression sets in,

or rather

arises from within

because the pain was already there

and so was the love

and so were

the blackbirds