Darkest Days|| Poetry and Prose

Weather of my mind

When I'm calm, I feel like I'm floating.
Drifting against the river or an ocean.

My mind gets busy and I overthink.
It keeps me moving. Keeps me busy. Then I blink.

I have days where I feel cold inside.
Icebergs stand still in my criminal mind.

Hacking away at rocks in my path.
They're too big and they break apart my axe.

Having to make another out of flowers and thorns.
Makes the work harder and I'm constantly worn.

I search for the energy through lightening and thunder.
Dark clouds of memories that I bury myself under.

I reach for the sun but it burns my hands.
I would move away but I'm stuck in the sand.

I'm a prisoner to the weather inside of my brain.
My seasons fight one another while I'm held by the chains.

The rain pours over me and tries to clear the tarnished side of my life.
But the heat keeps it dry, leaving it covered in grime.

The snow comforts my bad thoughts with its icy form.
Its frozen blanket surrounds me, but it leaves me too warm.

The lightening bolts crash against the walls of my hate.
Crumbling the brick and turning it to paste.

My feet feel cold in the slimy sludge.
It grips onto me tight and doesnt let me budge.

I shout at the thunder to take me down.
To let me float away in the rain and drown.

Drifting against the river or an ocean.
Then I'm calm and I feel like I'm floating.