Salt Water Inside My Head Poem by James McLain

It has grown to be more than
i can wrap my hands around.
She cannot touch his face, though
how she wished he would.
Can't they drill a hole outside my head
and change the water like they a car.
I only cut my self to see if i am dead and
sad but still she's left alive.
It is worse than any depression i have ever
seen or read.
Why doesn't my brain work right, sometimes
the risky thrills it seeks are tight i sigh.
And the lonely mess is all that it can stand.
Stimulation is not for me some pill or bottle.
All that was left i left with you too chose.