She stood on the bridge
In silence and fear
For the demons of darkness
Had driven her here

They cut her heart
Right out of her chest
Making her believe
That the demons knew best

They were always there
Sometimes just out of sight
Waiting in the background
Till the time was right

These demons were destructive
Knocking down the life she knew
Hating everything about her
She hated herself too

These demons can't be seen
But they're far from fairy tales
They live inside your mind
Their evilness prevails

So on the bridge she stood
About to end the fight
Then she stopped and thought
I'll fight them one more night

Life’s ending is short,
  its beginning unknown

The middle is long,
  chasing stone after stone

Memories most vivid,
  from decades ago

Feelings now drifting,
  like wind driven snow

Our seconds tick off,
  as minutes run down

The big picture fades,
  tracks left on the ground

Beginning or ending,
  the next step unclear

The last cut the deepest,
—to suture or sear

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

Strange,
To be loved.
Odd,
To be forgotten.
Cold,
To be abandoned.
Harsh,
To be acquainted.

Yet desired,
To be held.
Loathed,
To be alone.

My emotions shaded grey.
My actions swayed with the wind.