Shutdown

It begins in the well

Liquid turning to gas

Fully evaporated 

Bone dry

 

The flowers begin to wilt

Dying of thirst

It’s only source of sustenance

Lost in the night

 

Finally, the soul becomes restless

With no water to refresh

And no plant to nourish

The hunt grows sparse

 

And so, cornered

Blade dull from disuse

The soul shuts down

Unable to fight any longer

~

Photo by Christopher Sardegna on Unsplash

Labyrinth​

Torch extinguished

But I’ve been here before

Hello, darkness

My old friend

In the beginning,

I tried to turn back

When that failed,

I pushed onward

Scraping the walls

Feeling my way toward salvation

But now…

Now I walk confidently

Unafraid of the path ahead

I may be in the labyrinth

But I’m retracing my steps

~

Photo by Linus Sandvide on Unsplash

Revisited: An Old Friend

I wrote this poem in September of 2017. It was the first poem I had written in about 15 years. I had gone through a long stretch of really good energy and positivity, but it was coming to an end. I had taken on the task of going back to school, working two jobs and volunteering 10 hours a week. I was sleeping maybe 2–3 hours a day and my body and mind had had enough. My depression was back.

This is not my best work, or even good I would argue. But it sparked something in me and started me on the path that I’m walking now. I’m revisiting it now because I’ve drifted back to that place again. I wanted to read my thoughts the last time this happened, to compare the feelings and work out the differences. Thank you for reading.

~

My depression snuck up on me today

An old friend I hadn’t seen in a while.

He asked how I had been, I said great.

You see, I had finally found a way out,

A way to not be around him anymore.

He used to be ok, I would tolerate him.

He was company, filling a void of conversation and companionship.

Slowly, I realized there was more,

Other conversations that needed to be had,

Other connections I was missing out on

Because I experienced only him every day.

Yet here he was, invading my space again.

I know how this ends.

I know that he’ll hang around for a few days

Maybe a couple weeks

Hopefully no longer than a month

And then I’ll kick him out

Tired of his bullshit.

But in the meantime, I’ll sit

I’ll try to push him out but fail.

Not because I don’t have the strength,

But because in some small way,

I don’t want him to leave.

~

Photo by Michael Shannon on Unsplash