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Tag Archives: Despair

I saw you for the first time in nearly a year,

It was bittersweet, as most moments

Have been since the clock struck midnight,

Sealing the fate of the world indefinitely.

I couldn’t see your smile, but your eyes

Sparked a fire in my heart as of old.

Your warmth from six feet away,

Could set ablaze even the iciest soul.

It took everything in me to not close the gap,

to be the irresponsible one for once.

For so long I hid behind that veil of virtue,

Because I was terrified,

Of what might lay beyond the truth.

And yet here we are, in limbo,

Waiting for the sirens to die down,

And the world to speed up again.

For something…

If it must hurt, let it be quick.

And if it finds our hearts entwined,

let us not waste a moment.

Yet here we are, six feet apart,

So close to the answers,

Yet insufferably far.

When you see yourself through the distorted lens of depression, you have trouble recognizing your own reflection. You can’t see the seam separating your normal self from the irrational being that calls you its host, and shows none of the courtesies a guest should uphold. The lines blur, and all that’s left is a pain that washes over your heart like a malevolent wave lapping upon your withered soul; a pulsating ache that ebbs with the ever-changing tide of humanity.

His self-esteem lies in a fetid puddle

Staring up at him in longing

Wishing to restore its place.

He tries to cup it within his palms,

To drink and in turn reinvigorate.

Alas, like all things in his life

He grimly watched his salvation

Trickle slowly through stiff fingers

As though his skin turned to stone

And soon, his heart followed.

For swiftly the tears of regret

Flow like Neptune’s sea

From burning eyes,

Eroding his grip and

Withering away his heart,

All hope is swept away

With the ebbing tide.

It would be unwise to decipher the ache in his heart.

So much so that he truly believes

If he were to dig down into the depths

To recall the origin of that wretched,

unwelcome, drowning sensation,

He would no longer have the strength

To climb out of that pitch black hole.

That he may be forced along Dante’s path

With no guide nor God to lead him safely.

For within those depths he will plunge, and

The path of the absurd waits hungrily at the crossroad.

Do I recite the name in hopes it will bring back that old sensation

When hope was in the air, and just that word could reincarnate

Every bit of splendor that we shared?

No.

All that’s left is the smudge in hindsight

The blur that fights for recognition,

When I’d really prefer,

It stay no more, or no less, than a tiny, insignificant blur

Is there no end to the guilt that I feel?

Do I blame myself for another’s yield?

If light means life then I must concede;

the darkness has found me, as daylight recedes.

It smears carbon black over eyes pearl white.

Concealing the pleasure, enforcing the blight.

The agony is a bore, life becomes a chore;

when all that I can fathom

is the day it ran me ragged.

It’s enough to kill a man, unrequited love.

It’s enough to keep his Winters frigid

and his Summers smoldering.

He’ll rarely feel comfort anymore.

At times a glimmer crosses his eye

and normality kisses his forehead,

then skitters off down the lane,

laughing as the man’s futile stride

stumbles over a storm drain

Collapsing to his knees,

cursing what’s left

Of his mediocre life.