It tugs and sears away at my mind. Thoughts lighting up one by one, filled with fire. I’m choking and gasping, but nothing’s coming up. Crawling across the floor, desperately clawing at the limp carpet flopped over the wood as if somehow that’ll give me the ability to clear my own airway. I’m sorry I have had so much to say as I try to swallow deeply and nothing happens. Constricted.
A small descript of the perpetual state of my being. Lost, scared, drowning, just waiting for that last minute to pass before it’s all over. As I slowly take on mouthfuls of this black, murky depressive ocean that threatens to rise to the top of the sky and throw me into space, I wonder if there is anything at all I can do.
Isolation creeps in at night and steals all my comforts. Everything, everyone feels so incredibly far away. No matter how I reach, I reach only empty air.
Where’s the logout? How do I disconnect from this torture?
Feeling so twisted up and torn, I honestly can’t find up. I reach for my finely tuned formulas that ease grief and anguish, but they output nil. My delicately balanced algorithms don’t seem to have any effect as the waves rush against me, topple me over, fill my lungs, then press me until I’m flat.
Fake smiles usually lead into sunlight, but I can’t seem to find the right path. Hold a paint brush, focus close, still I hear the black waters crashing endlessly against my sanity. Fill my mind with soft, swaying music, but a shadow of chaos and discord linger in every note.
Where does one go, to escape themselves?