my sanity seems to unravel

like frayed shoe-laces on a rainy day

I keep tripping on in the mud

but when I go to tie them

I find myself barefoot

rooted in an unsatiable lust

for something other than reality

a blood-letting of sorts

a scream that dies

before it escapes my throat

my struggle is not one of boredom or regret

rather a confusing mixture

of powders, pills, and mind-control

and some weird state of non-commital emotion

a dark ocean of something mistakenly called

anti-depression

I’ve never really been in control

but I fight with a might that might surpise you

and win most battles and lose most wars

realizing too late that I’m the only one

keeping score

another day of willing the sun to stay down

to allow me to drown

in a dreamscape of something greater

inhibit my feelings or leave me alone

this is something I’ll always fight

alone