Down the darkest corridor
I do walk through
Seeing the merest hint
Of light
Before me.
Torturing me
These brief interludes
Of cruel mirages
Caressing my soul.
Only
To come crashing down
Bathing me
In the renewal
Of darkness.
As days flow
Into weeks
And later
Into months.
Where time is
Only measured by
The changing
Of seasons.
My voice
A muted sound
Moves from being threatened
To endangered species list
As my words vanish
From sight.
Knowing
The dangerous sound
That silence is
For a person
Like myself.
There's no escaping
Once labelled extinct
As Death takes
My soul.
Therisa © 2018
Author's note: On the weekend of February 3rd and 4th, after my 2018 birthday, I was having active suicidal thoughts. This the first time that this has occurred, since the holiday season of 2010-11, when I last attempted suicide. What this meant for me, I was hearing, in greater clarity these self-harming thoughts. That as far as it got for me, during this time, I was battling a virus for eight days. A belated birthday present for myself. Am no longer having active suicidal thoughts, since then.
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