As the doors lock closed,
with a juddering "click,"
my tears come rushing down
in a waterfall of sick.
Trying to avoid the pain,
the malice,
the fear,
but I'm feeling hazy, unclear.
I'm running from something,
and I try not to scream,
but the arms enfold me,
a knife slicing with a sheen,
I cut,
and I fall.
I cry,
and I bawl.
In the embrace of darkness,
I feel all alone.
It's in my blackened veins,
in my broken soul.
Lost in the mist,
with no way to see,
as the frozen hand of death
slowly enfolds me.
Lost in the mist,
with nowhere to go,
wishing that something, anything,
will show.
And just as I felt myself
slipping away,
a face appeared out of the darkness
to save the day.
It shone brighter than sun,
eyes that twinkled with stars.
He came down and held me
and unlocked the bars.
He helped me get through,
his voice soft and true.
And at night,
when the stars are shining,
and the moon is too blinding,
when the pain gets too much,
he heals it with a touch,
a whisper,
a word,
and I'm flying free,
like a bird.
Love Helping With Depression
Lost In The Mist
Published: June 2014
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