Gazing into the mirror,
blotchy eyed, unkempt and exhausted
as dull light casts shadows,
framing my weary face,
as I search for any strength
left in this aged reflection
by recalling fearless days.

Adrift, all conviction is lost
yet, in my mind I still tread water,
as despair’s chill takes hold
and I drown in torments deep depths,
each breath a heavyweight
as I slowly sink under.

My heart remains guarded,
I count each fragile vulnerable beat
and I deeply pray for solace as frailty continuously snuffs out my spark.
The anxiety grips steadfastly to reality
and my self-esteem dissipates
under this malady.

I cower from this fear,  
not wishing to fade into stillness here,  
while the world outside looms
like an impossible mountain to climb.  
Why must my existence feel so awry,  
reduced to nothing but a broken soul?
Because, this is not me…
This is not me at all.

©️Lizzie Bevis