Poison Ivy

Depression grows, ever sprawling
against the walls of
the mind.
Rooted in memories planted by
generational ghosts,
watered by peer pressure.
That poison ivy
exaggerated in media
beautified, even deified.
Life needs no exaggeration
forcing some towards medication,
wallpapering their room, essentially
renovating, making more space
but rarely ever cutting
down the plant.


5 thoughts on “Poison Ivy

  1. This poem made me think about…what was the name of that short story? The one where there’s this woman, from the 1800’s. And her husband basically declares her “neurotic,” and forces her to live in a room, by herself, until she eventually sees people living in the wall paper? It’s an oft-quoted feminist-lit piece, and I can’t think of the name, or its author, to save my life.


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