Anti-Depressant Song

Brain gone, shoes.
Lips don't tuck, synapse, Welsh.
Wouldn't want. Dice. Help for a man,
Hopping about, his feet held together...
Happy? Hardly. Kinetic finese. Serotin soaked. Rag.
Rays of darkness penetrating the light in my cortex.
Cervix.
You'll rescue me...
Right?