It feels like I can't breathe
And I won't tell me why
No matter how he pleads
Maybe I miss the light from your eyes
Maybe my sanity's said goodbye


And as quick as they came,
The
      demons
                  are
                       gone
                              again.


The ennui rushes in
And I whisper - I'll heal
I'll run from being comfortably numb,
Ignore the dreadfully appealing
Idea of hiding from feeling

All that I can do,
But what terrifies me
Are the thoughts of you.

Dead on the inside
I can't conjure any inspiration
to lift my imagination
from this barren plain

Searching for stimulation
I've stumbled across enunciation
In those rare moments
when the torrent of my heart overflows

But now my chest is  lacking
since all the valleys and hills have been flattened.
In the mountains where my muse reposed
All that remains are empty paths of prose

So I'll write.
Where once I put pen to screen
to catch my screams
Now I'll clatter away to
Escape the doldrum of emotional boredom

Just the other day, it seems
I was taking a stroll
Betwixt my thoughts and dreams
When I came upon a hole.

Careless and morose,
I wandered too close.

Stumbling!
Oh!
Tumbling!
Woe!

Such a cursed downward trip.
Grasping, clasping, clutching,
The slick sides refused my grip,
And I slipped; lost touch.

Tired and resigned,
My mind went blind.

Descent!
Oh!
Torment!
Woe!

Yet, the world appeared quite clear,
Though my temper was black.
I saw how frightfully drear
wound the future's track.

Frantic, I panicked
At my droll edict.

Penance!
Oh.
Silence...
Woe?

A quaint distraction found me,
And reached out to console.
Insipid pastimes found me,
And filled up the hole.

At last my thoughts, free,
Yet my dreams, empty.

Rescue!
...
Relief!
...
So
...
?

Now I know
I'm my own foe.
Now I know
When he beckons,

Just
say
no.

Out in public
With a friend,
With a brother,
With a lover,
It's all the same

When your soul is sick,
When it won't mend,
When the truth smothers,
Then you'll discover
It's all the same.

"Be stoic,"
"Pretend,"
They blather.
No. Never.
I'm not the same.

Life's an illusion.
A facade of actions.
So to sleep, I'm bidden.
And from friends I hasten,
Towards self-destruction.

I think.
I feel.
And yet it all seems unreal.

I blink.
I breathe.
But beneath, turmoil seethes.

The brink,
I face.
And failing, to repose I race.

I shrink.
I shun.
But it's from myself I run.

I sink.
I rend.
And into oblivion I descend.

My!, oh my, what is happening to my perception?
Why!, oh why, would it falsely whisper so?
Fie!, just fie, then. Evermore, its suggestions I'll shun.
Cry!, I cry, since it's the world I forgo.

Eyes!, oh eyes, could you please unveil these strange sights for me?
Try!, oh try, to remove this misty crown.
Lies!, just lies, I judge from everything that I see.
Sigh!, I sigh, for the world is upside-down.