(no subject)
My Head
It’s dark in here.
An inky blackness which hugs and sticks,
Swirls and slithers.
The stickiness enfolds in a suffocating way.
It’s almost comforting, with a frightening softness.
Within the emptiness come shades and forms.
Whispers, insidiously forming ideas into my mind.
Oh, nothing with substance, just black,
Shiny, patent black, like Sunday-best shoes.
Thoughts to make me feel worthless, hopeless, useless,
Ugly thoughts for an ugly person.
And then, the answers, the easy, simple ways to deal with it all.
The heaviness and hurt. The emptiness and grief.
Just let it out.
One quick cut, one slice, and
The blood will take it away. Wash it out from deep inside.
“Nothing permanent, not yet,” the black says
“I’ve not finished with you yet.”
Just a few fast slashes, medicinal almost, better than drugs, easier than leeches.
The simple answers, I turn them in my mind, they seem so sensible as if I should have seen them long ago.
A sudden roaring, shuddering waves of wind. tiny sparks of light,
Just enough of me to question - Why would that work?
What if that didn’t work?
Just enough sense.
Just enough belief.
Just enough hope to cling to,
Just enough memory to hold on,
To remember that this will pass.
Please.
It’s dark in here.
An inky blackness which hugs and sticks,
Swirls and slithers.
The stickiness enfolds in a suffocating way.
It’s almost comforting, with a frightening softness.
Within the emptiness come shades and forms.
Whispers, insidiously forming ideas into my mind.
Oh, nothing with substance, just black,
Shiny, patent black, like Sunday-best shoes.
Thoughts to make me feel worthless, hopeless, useless,
Ugly thoughts for an ugly person.
And then, the answers, the easy, simple ways to deal with it all.
The heaviness and hurt. The emptiness and grief.
Just let it out.
One quick cut, one slice, and
The blood will take it away. Wash it out from deep inside.
“Nothing permanent, not yet,” the black says
“I’ve not finished with you yet.”
Just a few fast slashes, medicinal almost, better than drugs, easier than leeches.
The simple answers, I turn them in my mind, they seem so sensible as if I should have seen them long ago.
A sudden roaring, shuddering waves of wind. tiny sparks of light,
Just enough of me to question - Why would that work?
What if that didn’t work?
Just enough sense.
Just enough belief.
Just enough hope to cling to,
Just enough memory to hold on,
To remember that this will pass.
Please.