Look what I found

I was rummaging through some drawers last night and came accross the artist’s proof that I had to send in when one my poems was published.

My DH once said that it was pretty grim and made him depressed…he wasn’t far off.  I was in a very dark place when I wrote this, and just reading it gives me cold chills, it was not a pretty place to be.  How does one describe depression to someone that has not lived it, to someone that has not felt it.

I like to think that this was a good attemtp at doing just that.

 

Running through a tunnel

Running through a tunnel,

a dark tunnel all alone

the tunnel is my mind

the tunnel is my soul…

running from my shadow

with no hope of ever escaping

searching for an open end

to feel life once more

drowning in the quicksand

that is my thoughts

no hope of an outcome

of the darkness that haunts me so

scared of something you cannot see

living in fear of the untouchable

no escape on this endless tunnel

the tunnel, I call my soul.

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