there are nights i fear you coming, knowing your arrival will plunge me into the abyss, to dredge the emotional depths, i am not ready or willing to explore. i am too fragile, overwrought to plumb those parts of me.
it is intense, exhausting, all consuming, analyzing and dissecting my feelings, so i can pick up a pen, transcribe the wellings, spew them on paper, for the world to see. you are a sadist, but i am the *******, that is the reason i love you, leaving me frail, weakening my mettle, as you show me my demons.
crashing out of our dream, i awake alone, the morning after, left in a stupor, hung over, craving more, lamenting what could have been. how lonely do i need to be, to feel free, how much drugs and alcohol does it take to forget, how far do i need to fall to see.
the depression envelopes, inundates all, in a grayness, as the summer sun leaves, abandoning me to melancholy. that is when you come, at my deepest, loneliest, to kiss me as no mortal woman can, whispering, “ you can’t escape me,” in my ear..
About love hate relationship with my muse (creativity), writing, and depression
Read at Wild Detective Bookstore in Bishop Arts Dallas TX 2019.10.09