blackness surrounds in charcoal billows,
sleepless stillness
head laid upon pillow.

isolation creeps,
though I prayed its beckon no sooner.

drifting through the limitless, barren lacuna.

metanoia of myself, induratized my mind.
though a beast, rantipole and restless
rages inside.

a quest irenic, and chaotic the same.
two sides of the same coin,
acceptance, and blame.

both
love and hate,
gorged and hollow.

cloaked over every
white pill I swallow.

to go to bed at night,
and awake with morning day.

is it to rerun through
the monotonous cycle I've built?

or to quietly keep me sane?