The Dog.

In my own head is somewhere scary.

a box full of fluff, secrets and blue.

sometimes I can understand why others are wary

wary of me and what’s inside my mind

unsure if they dig what they will find

I know what they mean, by digging inside,

pandora’s box splitting at the seams,

sometimes I just want to run and hide,

hide from my head and the giant black dog

he’s taken up residence inside my box of deep blue.

If I let him out I fear what he’ll do.

will he scare those around me and make me snap,

or will he sit in my mind until I crack.

scary he is to myself and my friends

what he does.. well that depends

depends on how I release him,

tight in a bind or as free as a bird

but will he listen to me when I give the word?

the word that returns him to the depths of my mind.

tightly tightly I must bind.

For if he is free he will cause me such harm

but bound up so tightly he is rarely calm

calmness I rarely feel without the help

the help of medication that I knock back daily

without it he talks to me too much to cope,

without it I struggle to even crack a joke.

he talks to me no matter what I do

how much I try and loose him he finds it,

finds the trail of my mind and catches me up

good days are often tarnished by a return,

a return of him choking, punishing, cloaking.

cloaking his badness behind a mask of joy

one that fools you into thinking it’s true,

come to help you fight this battle not yet won.

as soon as he has you believing his lies,

away away away the cloak flies.

to trap, encase and smother you tight

getting tighter and tighter the more that you fight.