Embracing the colors
As they spin off the spiral,
Reaching out to touch my desires
And bring each little spectrum
Onto my monochromatic planet.

Spinning through my world
Like a brilliant top atop a table.
The spiral brings a blinding light
And preaches words of color like a fable.

“The problem with sanity is that I CAN’T lose my mind, it’s inescapable.”  
Sanity is a spiral.  An ever-tightening coil, that goes around and around.  

One may find themselves at the beginning, their head perfectly clear.  
But as time goes by, moments of absurdity start to appear, like mosquitos at the start of Spring.  It feeds off you.  Picks at you, like a scab ready to burst.  

Until you finally reach the center and the spiral is so tight it crushes your psyche.  
But the thing about spirals is that they never end, there’s always more.  

You may never fully break,
But you can always turn around and find the beginning once more.  
And just remember,
“Your now is not your forever”
Even if the spiral may feel that way.

the screen empty lids behind my fatigued seeing eyes
sore from the blue fluorescence, trying to fill a void
desire to push myself to be functionally aware about my mortal coil
my sweet grief-stricken circumstance that is life
movement is opioid for the limp limbs of existence, trying oh so hard
here I lay
empty as an cracked eggshell
thrown in a filthy metal drum
where is my purposefulness
my proper shot at this path
the lead heavy laden head of my spiral
ties me down to the faux softness
begging for some warmth

My shadow's seductive song
steers me into a comatose state,
as a deep slumber or senseless stupor
envelops me
...helpless...paralyzed
It starts to gnaw away
at what I thought was real.
leaving a murky thick blur,
that swallows
like the black rushing wave
of an absolute abyss.
Twisting dark spirals cluster,
as a pulsating pressure
thuds away urgently like a ticking
clock counting down the time

Slowly as I sink,
I embrace its cold peace
that's sweetly sweeps over me.

“Try to be happy,
You shouldn’t be sad.”
Don’t you think I know that?
It’s what drives me mad.

“Just stop thinking about it,
and let go of the past.”
It all seems so simple,
but I can’t make it last.

“It’s mind over matter,
just think positive.”
Like I’m in control,
of my thought narrative.

“I used to be depressed,
so trust me you’re fine.”
Suicidal thoughts,
and remorse intertwine.

“Just call me up,
I’m here whenever you need.”
I called three times today,
and sent texts you didn’t read.

“Don’t do something stupid,
because it would crush everyone.”
Thing is I don’t want to,
but this weight feels like a ton.

I’ve said all these things,
to people before.
I didn’t understand depression,
or drowning on the shore.

It’s losing the light,
that others can see,
and drowning in darkness,
and you cannot get free.

It’s anxiety and shame,
of being a burden.
It’s struggling to breathe,
but that next breath’s not certain.

You cry out for help,
for what you don’t understand,
and you sink ever deeper,
in depressions quicksand.

I’m sorry for everything,
for becoming this way.
just know you’ll never fix me,
with words that you say.

I’ll stick around,
for as long as I can.
Know I’m trying my best,
to find the light again.

So many days spent wishing to be somewhere, with someone.
Endlessly needing to feel that someone somewhere needs me.
So tired of feeling and being empty. So empty from feeling tired.
So tired of just being.

Moving from nothing to nowhere and back again. Some days just too tired and empty to even deal with nothing and nowhere. Never changing, never varied and oh so never ending.
So tired of just being.

Repetition that drains, that saps, that devours and consumes.
Eating away just a little more of who I was, who I can be.
Eroding piece by piece who I was and how I see myself.
So tired of just being.

Pointless, aimless, redundant so totally without purpose.
Devoid of reasons to wake and no rest though I sleep.
So much time wasted, abused, misused, cursed and loathed.
So tired of just being.

A place beside the trees,
A vibrant place for me.
Surrounded by the leaves,
A place where I can be.

The trees don’t jeer.
The leaves don’t even ask me my name.
The wind’s blow judges not,
Whose face is graced with its kindly breath.

This is not my own however,
As many share it too,
Opened doors to whomever,
Worst of even you.

People carelessly walking,
Without the slightest aim.
The thought ever pervades my mind:
“I wonder if they feel the same?”

In this fruitful land, my greatest catharsis.
And yet, there is something not quite right here.

A gentle, creeping darkness,
Whispers in my ear:

“It is said that where you look,
You can find and see,
A place with all the answers,
The place inside your dreams.

But when all is said and done,
And nothing’s left but rot,
There was no place at all,
And you will be forgot.”

I cannot utter what
is bothering my soul

Perhaps it is the fire
of my own mind  

The same fire that
kept me warm was
the one to burn me

Or perhaps it is the
unbearable weight of
my sleepless eyelids