a quiet discontent
seeps slowly into my bones.

a steady stream of despair
floods my whole perspective.

I cannot escape the weight
pressing quietly down on me.

A slow steady death of my own making.
How do I escape this maddening numbness?

I cry out of the darkness out of a deep dark hole.
A glimmer of hope comes in the form a voice.

Someone climbs down into the darkness with me,
and tells me that he  can't lift me out, but
he can share with me how he dug himself out.

Hope rises from strange places,
and mine began when
I experienced love from strangers,
and realized I am part of a We.