Sliding doors closed
creep over the room
checkered patterns
filled with shadows
whispering soliloquys
to the darkness
Things we hide
fears we'll find
our tears lay embedded
between the sheets
are rumpled and
pushed to the floor
shuddering cold fingers
grip
get a grip
slip
sipping on lemonade
staring at cracks
in our hard
wood
floors.
Breathe in
one more, yes
one more time
feel it find the mark
take your time
I will be here...
still.
pacing rocking singing crying
whatever.
You know what I do?
how could you understand
the lights went out of June
When fireflies
crushed on windshields
make my only light.
how could you
walk with me
the wicked man smiles
smiles in the darkness
only, take me
by the hand
Squeeling hinges crack
shuffling
across the kitchen floor
I turn on the light
but sometimes I still
whisper to shadows now
and sometimes
they whisper to me
Depression is a personal demon, that takes our minds and scatters it to the four winds. I think everyone from time to time, has been dealt a hand or two from this monster.
This is a terrifying write, but one that can only help in the healing.
A further collection of poems, many from years in the Middle East, but also the California San Francisco and Central Coast areas (Santa Cruz, Carmel, Big Sur, Berkeley, etc.).
Share
Print
Save
Follow
This is a terrifying write, but one that can only help in the healing.
Lisa