I float here in my sea,
dark, cold, and deep.
I cannot see the depths below,
Is something reaching up for me?
I feel no touch, no grasp, just cold,
As I float here in my sea.
Yet dread lingers in the silence.
Is something reaching up for me?
Will something rise to claim me,
And drag me to the murky deep,
Or will I float forever,
In my endless lonely sea?
Anxiety grips like a vice, so tight,
A life ruled by fear, fear of all things,
How can I break free from this endless night?
Each breath I take feels like a fight,
A future unknown, the shadow clings,
Anxiety grips like a vice, so tight.
I watch the world, slipping out of sight,
From the sidelines, where nothing springs,
How can I break free from this endless night?
I dream of peace, of unshackled flight,
But each step forward, the darkness stings,
Anxiety grips like a vice, so tight.
In the mirror, I am a ghost,
a puppet of the world's illusions,
its expectations heavy as chains,
strings long since frayed by the violence of my mind.
Inside, I am a graveyard,
the dead whispering the things I cannot say.
Tears hidden behind smiles that crack like old paint.
The court of fools calls to me,
eyes blind to the burden I carry.
I play the jester for them,
but if death came tonight,
I would take his hand,
and breathe a sigh of relief.
Eyes on me, watching close,
A creeping sense of doom.
Is this a dream or waking nightmare?
I can't scream or cry, so I smile politely.
Inside, my heart beats like a drum,
I hope they can't hear it.
There are nights when even the pills fail,
their promise of peace crumbles like ash.
My mind is a restless storm,
thoughts racing, twisting,
turning upon themselves.
Each night I close my eyes,
but sleep is a cruel spectre,
hovering just beyond reach.
Then my sleeplessness turns on me.
My heart beats hard and fast,
like a bird, trapped against the bars of my ribs.
Pain coils tight in my chest.
The room spins, its edges blur.
I cannot think.
I cannot feel.
I cannot speak.
Such a short time we had together,
Before death took you in his warm embrace.
Now I am here without you,
Beside me, an empty space.
I hope what they say is true,
That you are in a better place.
Death kissed my lips and took my hand,
Guiding me through a world so strange,
Where we never parted, never knew the pain,
Where love was never lost, never estranged.
What joy we’d have known, what life we’d have lived,
If only you had not gone away.
I would have held you close, forever near,
In a world untouched by cold decay.
But death’s embrace is all I was granted,
A walk with him, through memories undaunted,
Where you and I remain unbroken,
In the shadows of what might have been.
I dreamt of him beneath the silver moon,
his porcelain face cracked deep with golden light.
He looked at me with sorrow-laden eyes,
and I, entranced, returned his mournful gaze.
Between us stretched a silence, vast and cold,
yet in the hush, I knew he called to me.
He raised a fragile hand, so pale, so still.
I reached to meet him, fingertips outstretched.
O Little Robin, who follows me close,
I know your soul, it warms my heart.
You are here with me once again,
It was never goodbye, only see you soon.
And here you are with your new-found wings.
Hello, my cheeky monkey.
In dreams, I see your little face once more,
Bright brown eyes alive with trusting light.
Your soft mews echo, a tender, fleeting balm,
And your purr lulls my heart into warmth again.
But dreams fracture; shadows flood the peace,
A cold December night claws at my mind.
A cry for help, your frail frame in my arms,
Breath hitching, blood stealing what should be yours.
One final gasp, and your body stills,
A patchwork coat soaked in my falling tears.
