Over the horizon
Darkening clouds gather
Thin black line forms
Ominous signs of trouble.
Past storms heralded
Sudden dramatic plummeting
Emotional barometer
Dangerously low levels
Threatening life.
First stormridge hits
Like an unmarked riptide
Abruptly overpowering.
Written poems fall
Covering soulscape
In emotionally laden words
Like sleet of ice.
Finished
Months may past
Before another poem.
Intermixed
Second stormridge arrives
Black rain clouds
Unburdened themselves
With tear stain streaks.
Unnatural
Eerie silence descends
Locked on emotional
And physical drained soul.
Hidden war
Viciously fought
Outright control of soul
Any misstep-Death.
Not all fronts
Visibly seen campaigns
War of attrition.
Internalized anger grows
Self-punishing
Appetite-ebbs and flows
With the waistline.
Interlocking walls built
Brick upon brick
Kiln fired by isolation
Mentally and physically
Fatigued soul.
Craving all levels-sleep
Unfulfilled need
Debt grows.
Bedside clock/radio
Signals time
Not days passage
In hypnotic light/dark dance.
Concept of time
Nothing more
Last meal/bathroom break
In physical world.
Praying
Ideation stays passive
Not active.
Upon active stage
Suicidal plans decoded
Static-free reception
Properly aligning
Mental receiving dish.
Everything
Becomes a weapon
Wanting pain gone.
Code Delta
Pain over.
Otherwise
Long slow recovery
Rebuilding mental bridges
Collateral from the war.
Despite this
Never reaching
True mental equilibrium
Falling just short
In recovery.
Therisa © 2018
Author’s note: How some of bouts of depressions are like, for me.
