The sweet smell smell
of the woman I love
is growing faint
under the wafting aroma
of ***** laundry.
as I lay in bed staring at my ceiling
and
thinking about who or what I am. Maybe,
I'm missing her too much.
maybe,
I'm too dependent.
These ever dragging days
that quickly become
seemingly endless nights
are starting to take their toll.
I'm a house built on marshland
I'm starting to cave in.
Not all at once though
parts are starting to pull away,
My foundation is cracking and giving way.
I'm scared.
last time my depression got really bad
the first thing to go was my passion for poetry.
I don't want to fall silent again.
But these nightmares are getting worse and my whole being
seems to be slowing to a stop.
  Please,
someone help me.
Please,
someone give me advise
on how to keep my demons
under my bed
and out of my head.
Please,
someone save me from the death of my passion.
I'm fighting off depression and winning
However,
depression didn't come alone.
Its bigger meaner brother,
anxiety is sneaking up behind me.