Sometimes at night I feel like I'm drowning.
The darkness that seeps into my body
Is comforting but cold
And it wraps around my lungs
In a empty imatation of a blanket
That makes getting out of bed in the mornings that much harder.
The inky black of the night holds my lungs captive
In a smoky cage as it urges me forward
And makes existing in the land of the living painful.
It becomes normal, the writhing mass of midnight
But the minute I relax into its hold
It squeezed the breath from my lungs
And the cycle starts again.