The Labyrinth of Depression

I’m lost in the abyss that is my contorted mind

With only cliché metaphors to sooth me

I am broken far beyond the point of repair

In fact, each piece of my puzzle is a puzzle within itself

I find solace only in tear-soaked pillows

Cheap wines

Dull blades

And self-destruction

How desperate must one be to crave pain

Too long for suffering

Not pain in the way you can stick a band-aid on it and call it a day


Pain that lives in your each and every thought

Pain that doesn’t only control you

Pain that consumes you

Every fiber in your body

The pain that turns the blood in your veins a red so dark and deep

It has Satan muttering curses of jealousy

A pain so intense even the most badass daredevils cower in fear

Pain that makes the difference between sleep a consciousness a mere blur

It’s only a different nightmare from one to the other

It’s a labyrinth

Except for one thing

How exactly does one escape their own mind



This poem is about: 


Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda

Powerful expression. Always let poetry fill your life. Keep expressing your heart.  

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