being trapped in your mind is lonely
stalagmites of daily anxieties
towering, rising higher than the murky fog
blocking out escape, amending your fate.
cesspools of agony, longing to desecrate
when the clouds overhead open up
acid rains upon the substrate
it burns, but it is grounding.
the air is usually silent and damp,
breathing becomes a chore
the gravel in your lungs grates against your ears.
it's a sound you'll come to abhor
with one path throughout,
sown heavy with doubt
where birds seem to sing "Never, more"
you'll come to an ending
a sane little secret
warnings whispered in the wind
like, "like turn back, unsafe"
please heed them.