The colours of the world once danced for me,
But now they stand, all grey, though if they moved I’d barely see
Music painted dreams that nourished my soul,
But now it drowns the turmoil I can't control

we cant sit
and stare at our wounds
forever
we need to heal,
it starts somewhere
it takes a toll on you
but
we need to heal.

capricious: (adjective) an outcome driven by sudden, unpredictable change

your head gets heavy
a feeling of doom springs about
it lingers
enveloping you in fumes of doubt
it sets in, a cloud above your head.

it takes control
a silent, grey dread

colours fade out,
light grows dim
the heaviness spreads,
filling your eyes to the brim
shades of grey is all you can see

you search for colour,
desperately
to bring you back to reality

for the world you knew
sinks beneath the tide
into the dark abyss
of your mind
where shadows hide.

the abyss becomes all you know.

once you have it,
its like a shadow.
you can't outrun a shadow.
especially when that shadow's in your head.
you think things will get better,
they can't.

Fiery moon so rich
Over mirrored seas still deep
Fated wings in flight

You were worried about
the storm, so you
invited it in,
wanting to control the
damage through your
kindness and friendship.
But you can't.
The storm doesn't have
a conscience.
It will never be a cute
pet on your leash.

opened a bottle of scotch
“how’s that going to help?”
ever tried drinking this stuff
with the lid on    ..

as she closed the
door behind her
mind was made up

ok so I’m alcohol dependent
you got a problem with that ?

In grey the mind drifts
Upon a rose in dusk pink
Sweet the fragrance grows