Sitting here
once again,
gazing into an empty space.

Staring at the same four walls,
slowly watching the sun
bleed through the curtains like bleach.

The walls are closing in
and I feel like I can’t breathe.

I know that I over-think things,
always feeling like I have to analyse
everything
and everyone.
Always searching for answers
and the truth
behind inner peace.

Sometimes,
from the corner of an eye,
I catch myself watching the circus in the bar mirror.
It’s lonely
always being on the outside
looking in,
but life’s too short
and I’m no longer so impatient for love,
like a spoiled and demanding child.

For the best part
of the past five years
I’ve managed to keep most of my demons at bay.
Now,
as surely as day turns to night,
their ugly heads have slowly risen up
threatening to take over,
but I’m sick of being a pawn in their game.

Buried feelings
creeping up ,
un-noticed.
Hiding under the radar
‘til it’s too late
and all consuming.