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THREE POEMS
BRANDON SCOTT GORRELL


YESTERDAY I WAS HEAVILY DEPRESSED

you emailed me the next morning

saying you guess you missed me

i walked to my hostel with a seriously worried expression on my face

and a slight idea of sarcasm

and sat in white, plastic chair

only to make a sandwich later

sensing the negativity of loneliness

and the fact that tomorrow would be different

and that something was bad, in general


THINKING I COULD JUST BE HAPPY IF I WERE HIT BY A CAR

and fighting off existential worries

i want to speak spanish in front of you

or push my face into your cheekbone

i want to say something about your nipples

something about unexpectedly spiraling into a kind of sarcastic depression

on an uneventful friday morning

watching south park until i fall asleep

or the bleakness of the temperature outside

the way the sunlight filters through the blinds

i feel really worried


THE BLEAKNESS OF STANDING IN AN EMPTY KITCHEN

imagining my face lit by a sunset that's almost over

and walking into the living room

trying to logically convince myself of something

i miss you so much

the same way the temperature makes me feel afraid

your gmail status makes me worried about the future

in a giant house with central heating

in a giant bed

eating chocolate