When Alone and Overwhelmed


The rigor of staying sane is
hard to steady, especially
when the rain falls harder
for those minds not ready.

–It’s possible, you could eat lead.
That dark remark, a whisper in a
whiskey filled head. –It’s that simple.
The suggestion, direct and stark,

waits for a storm, a fatal flood.
A lone candle stands melting white
mixed with the mud, a fucking mess,
as the dam breaks. Cannot handle

the confusion, as I’m swept down
the deluge of deep delusion.


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