Friday, November 20, 2015

Depression

Shades drawn closed 
darkness blankets 
every corner of the room 
shadows become one 
flattened and obscure 
off in the distance 
are muted sounds
a whistling tea pot 
hopefully someone 
will attend to its needs 
wrapped gingerly within 
solitary seclusion and doubt 
...insecurity has become 
a knife held to my throat 
by my own hand 
widow's lasting garb 
fits like a second skin 
forming tightly around 
my waist and chest
heart beats out of necessity 
blood flows like an encore 
I hide within the day to day 
smiles and conversation 
secretly counting the seconds 
to when I might feel 
somewhat alive again 
it comes and goes 
velvet waves washing over
and a twisting churning knot 
tightens in my chest 
familiar hand reaching deep
fingers entwined
a death grip crippling
sleep comes a timely relief 
if only temporary 
ghosts and dream screams 
flutter quietly about
softly stroking my cheek
cold and damp to touch
until I rise and begin again 
praying for resolve and relief

© 2015 TrilbyYates 

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