Wallowing in the muck
Black filth of my depression
I feel her hand
On my arm
Fingers wrapped tight in my hair
Lifting me up
Back towards the light
Away from thoughts and desires
That will cause me harm
And sadness to so many others.
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Wallowing in the muck
Black filth of my depression
I feel her hand
On my arm
Fingers wrapped tight in my hair
Lifting me up
Back towards the light
Away from thoughts and desires
That will cause me harm
And sadness to so many others.
Posted on April 9, 2018 at 11:48 PM in Mike, Poetry | RSS feed | Reply | Trackback URL
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