The Black Horse and The Planets.

Within the room they ask me:
Is it medication you need?
It is lamentable
just how presentable
this ghost is to my temperament.
And how terrible
just how bearable
it is to boast of a piece absent.
If you pick me up
the line will go dead.
A vector made corrupt.
Don't untangle the wires in my head.
Remember being the thing that you wanted.
Out there, out there.
Far away birds fly.
The trees dark and things caught in them.
I know that you have seen them.
I know the planet is giving us the run around.
These planets hot and cold saving themselves from fright.
These planets losing steam and too quick.
They get up and that black horse got me.
Remember when it hadn't.
Society has made it a shame to get down in the low between.
Medication has gotten somewhere in between.
Somewhere in between the depression and the expression.
A recession of genuine loss.
An expression like feelers and moths.
The moon is now the porch light.
Navigation nothing but spinning wildly.
And those poor creatures just whir and knock blindly.
Out there, out there.
Nothing so blind as yourself.
Is it hesitation you require?