this is not despair
this is weariness
the simple truth that

there is no weight to darkness,

i’m not reaching for it,

but for fleeting moments it is necessary.
to catch my breath and let the
vibration of my skin
subside.
i can’t explain the energy required to remain whole
when the
light and bright and noise of the world
presses in to me.
my eyes
my skin
my nostrils, are full of it.
it demands that I provide a constant counterweight
just to stand still
just to breathe and stay awake
and remember that
this is not despair.

Is smiling
there in the corner
At me-
For putting myself
in hell
without his help.

my grip is slipping,
and falling scares me.
my world is fading away.
h      
          e
                     l
                             p
       m
                 e

h
          e
                    l
                          ­     p
          m
                     e

writing was an escape but even now words slip off the paper like tear drops.

It’s a sonnet of suffering
inside my head.

You replaced the boredom
of an everyday melody,

broadcast a daily bulletin
of disparate emotions.

Then the cacophony of chaos
played out a performance.

Now the symptoms of you
mean misfortune for me.

the words i wish i could’ve said burn the most
how sweet it is
to slip into the embrace of indifference
replace anger with guilt
drown slowly