The Darkness has a cast Iron grip.
Some days it becomes me. A heavy weight
upon my shoulders as the world pushes and
pushes. Some nights I forget what before
felt like. I close my eyes, my mind wanders,
but it can’t, it can’t recall a time before the pain.
I pull air into my lungs, ribs wincing from
the sudden movement my shoulders scream
despite my need to breathe. I pull my knees into
my chest, each muscle groaning. Perhaps I can sit
perfectly still let the coldness creep through me,
let the darkness take me. But the darkness
already has me tight within his claws.
Squeezing me tighter each throbbing pain,
each screaming ache, a reminder that I stand
alone and as my soul is taken into the
depths of the abyss, I wonder did you
know why it is I struggle to believe when
you give me no light at all to see.
Karen Hayward ©2016.