I am dark inside and with each passing moment I an only slipping deeper into the chasm.
You reach for me seeking pink, sweet kindness, but I have none.
I am filled with poison. It oozes out of me, my breath, my words, the black syrup of death.
This is why everyone goes away. Because of the black within me.
It lurks in the shadows of my life and pounces on me when I am weak. It eats my soul and regurgitates it back into the prison of my body. The soiled remnants wallow in my mind, taunting me with who I want to be and cannot seem to be.
I will infect you with my touch. The black syrup will spill over you and cause you pain, causing you to reel backwards with disdain. I am black poison. It emanates from every pore, every cell.
I reach for the light, sunshine, goodness, in hopes to feel myself again, to heal myself again. The shroud of ugly, thick, black syrup locks me down and keeps me from the goodness that lies beyond my grasp.
I am bereft of hope. The black syrup of pain engulfs me. It owns me. It shall always be.
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Tina, so what is the black syrup? Why do you feel that you are poison? ~Curt
ReplyDeleteThe black syrup is depression Curt. I've battled it my whole life. I've learned that it passes, but there are times it's so dark I can't even remember what light looks like. It is thick and heavy, like quicksand, and I barely have the strength to hold on until is melts away.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad that it doesn't consume you all of the time. Always try to remember that, "this too shall pass" and hold out for a brighter tomorrow. Sometimes I think we're given bad days so that we appreciate the good ones. Hang in there! ~Curt
DeleteMy kid once said "I'd prefer my emotions drive me to suicide than live without them"
ReplyDeleteVery true Steve. Hopefully it doesn't come to that. But there are times that seems a good option.
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