a slow pool gathers beneath my feat

coalescing into past grievances

old arguments and humiliations

as I stare the pool trembles

small ripples rise and fall

in ever overwhelming circles

the shameful moments rise

fear slides through me

a narrow hot blade

battered beaten and broken

by my own hand

I howl at life's cruel indignities

a rage of insignificance

washes over me

I am lost to my own paranoia

in the maze of my depression

I stumble forward

mumbles of incoherence dribble from my lips

the doors to friendship and love

have closed long since

I struggle to hold the few I have

12/27/2005

Posted on 12/27/2005
Copyright © 2024 Travis G Finborg