The Shadow Sees

Somewhere between reality and fiction he watched the world with a suspicious eye. The figure of a man left in shadow. A watcher of things that seemed trivial to most. The way that woman held his gaze without seeing him. The way the noise around him think of the city that was so close. The smells that spoke of rot and sadness. So much to see in the shadows, so much that others could not see.

The nurse applied the drops to his eyes and shook her head in pity. Coma patients always made her sad.

“Do you see anything? She whispered and left the room.

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Spinning.

The sky was once blue

The water was once clean

The rain…well…it didn’t burn

And there was grass, green grass.

I remember a thing called tree,

And wishing the summer days would last.

I remember the outdoor smell

Before the scent of grime.

I remember fish that swam,

Before the layer of oil.

I remember a world of light.

Before the world lost the fight.

Shed a tear

The end is near.

 

 

 

A Tiny Hand

Your tiny hand

held in mine

so small, I still remember…

Walk with me

hand in hand

as I get grey and meager…

My tiny hand

aged and frail

so small, you may remember

No matter how grey

or stooped with age

there is something always familiar…

Your hand hold true

is never grown

It’s just what I remember…

A tiny hand

held tight to mine.

A love that lives forever.

 

 

Wake and fail.

In a flurry of unconscious meandering,

Drifting through the known and unknown,

No light to speak of,

No sound to strain to hear,

No awareness of anything,

but the the blank…which is something,

Confused…I swallow,

Hard on pride,

I choke…too loud…

I wake…still here…

I cry,

Only a bit,

As the light peaks through the curtains,

I am awake?

I blink,

Pinch the skin of my arm,

It’s supposed to hurt right?

Too much volume out of sleep,

I miss the blank,

Hit the button on the strange box and drift,

I will try again,

When it isn’t too bright,

and much too loud.

Backward.

I like to walk backwards through a life less told,

Through rooms that have cobwebs from being so old.

I look over shoulders at days left forgot,

I shake my head slowly at memories for not.

I say good-bye to people easier than most,

Remembering them as you would a ghost.

Some say I have demons that hide in the dark,

I think I show them with an impersonal mark.

I have never been true to people or me,

I prefer to never let anyone see.

The masks I wear I hang in my mind,

Always at hand and easy to find.

For a time I was free and able to share,

Like a child acting out on a dare.

But as dares go they tend to hurt,

And leave you face down in the dirt.

So I walk backwards locking some doors,

Left to die on forgotten shores.

 

Confession of Depression.

I remember back when the world was heavy. The days were so long, riddled with grief and pain. There was a loss, so deep that to fall into it meant falling forever and I fell. The mind raced within a crawl. I didn’t think pain could come from inside. I didn’t think it could hurt for so long. All I wanted was to get it out and I did,

A line of red, dripping down the arm was like watching a favourite movie. Each line seemed to let out the agony. Each cut closer and closer to the hairless wrist below. The mind imagines a sleep deep and dreamless. It imagines a peace that comes with nothing, with nonexistence. To be gone, so easy, like snapping the fingers. As horrible as it sounds, that thought could bring a smile.

Days and days of red lines and dreams of nothing. Waiting for the end, but never following through. That in itself showed a hope, no matter how small. As the scars healed a soul perhaps began to heal too. those close tried to be closer and i pushed them away. Humans are still a species alien to me, but then I just hated them all.

So what changed? My children not laughing at their silly father. My parents out living a son. My own up bringing, stupid Catholics, and in a strange way a human. The mysteries of life coming back to the fallen. The fall ending, not with a thump, but slowing enough to put both feet on the ground. I wear a mask of smiles from time to time, but that is how you fool the dark.

Confession of Depression.