Little by little,
Our minds can slip.
Wandering far from home.
Ever so easy to catch a wayward word.
Rumour,
Idle gossip
Nasty quips that leave a razor's sting.
Gently elbow reason aside.
Maybe I deserved the spite
Yes, it must be true
Stupid of me to complain.
Ever so subtle, the descent begins
Lower and lower
Falling, towards the pit.
Despair is its name,
One of many as you know
Welcoming anyone without a care
Nightmares, they at least dissolve
I wake, and they say farewell.
Not so easy that dark cloud to shake
To forget the whispers
Over and over they taunt.
Twisting thoughts into voices
Helplessness
Emptiness
Panic replaces logic
I feel the solitude of the well
Tangible beneath my feet.
About the Creator
Kevi B
I write, therefore I drink coffee.
It's called people watching not, "he's looking at me all weird."
I think catharsis' ism should be a religious practice... and an actual word.
I meditate a lot, others call it overthinking.
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