the bastard and the beast

i hesitate with pen in hand

into the darkness to step.

the open door reveals a place

from which it is difficult to return.

as tears well in my eyes I feel

the fear arise.  the fear of feeling itself.

facing the darkness before my eyes

i realize the darkness is myself.

depression is a bastard and a thief

spawned from the depths of mind

stealing words, thoughts and expression.

leaving gaping wounds of loneliness and silence

falling headlong, struggling to hold on

to what I don’t know, but I know I must.

swallowing creativity, desire and love

leaving emptiness, remorse and helplessness

wandering, an empty vessel, in the world

staring speechless, clueless into the eyes of care

with no words to share, or feelings to give

barren, stripped of love, acceptance, friendship

a rotting pile of dung in place of humanity

stinking from lack of care or desire

rolling in muck with no recognition

that anything should be changed

loneliness in a crowded room

but loneliness that is insufficient

the healing loneliness is found only when

you escape the presence of even yourself

the beauty of sleep grants the reprieve,

in hours of unconsciousness you escape the me

utterly alone and unknowing

the pain…            stops

but the bastard thief will not be denied!

slithering into your every breath

to steal the beauty of sleep and befriend

the beast…  insomnia

prolonging the misery until the body

utterly collapses under the weight

insomnia sinks her talons into the brain

claiming every moment, demanding attention

raping and murdering every potential

moment of slumber, denying peace

with horrid dreams and frightful

phantoms of lurid and lucid memory

and then the tears begin to flow

the helpless, hopeless, collapse and release

the unending flowing river of emotion

that cannot be dammed.

engrossed in the sudden recognition

that you have snapped, that the bastard has won

without means to struggle or fight

you succumb… and sink into the darkness

longing for peace, for inner calm

longing for the yesterdays of happiness

longing to feel anything good

the darkness crushes the soul

the bastards curse is a betrayals ruse

the lovers and families and friends

succumb as well to fierce misunderstanding

rejection, silence and isolation

the bastard and the beast

in tandem seal the victory

lonely and utterly alone

left with nothing but yourself

the death spiral has begun

the mind empty of rationality

replays only the bastards lament

and awaits the useless, triumphant utterly relieving end

the cry for help, not understanding

and misunderstood, nowhere to turn

enemies within and without

maybe only one way out