A leaf that falls from its perch
meets its death as it crumbles to dust
and is consumed by the earth.

It embodies the soil and is then
consumed again...
This time by its brethren.

A mind that falls from its perch,
its pedestal, meets its doom...
In a slow, agonising descent
that does not yield any end.

It falls endless...
crashes through layers of truth,
caught in webs of the untruthful.
Stretches apart and collapses into
itself until death comes to claim,
disguised as madness.

I'm in my place.
A tiny space I've claimed for myself.

Though I share this spot,
right now it's mine.

With the door latched shut,
I leave the disorderly world,
just an arm-span away.

In my makeshift asylum,
I still hear calls from the outside.
Beckoning and inviting me into
the unrelenting foray...
Pointless skirmishes,
and mistimed altercations.

When all I want is...
To be alone; be empty
and devoid of unruly thoughts in my husk.
Because in the rare silence,
I desperately seek peace.

Peace with my past.
Peace with myself.
So I don't eat myself whole.
Because my world still needs me.