through the grain

I can't seem to cope at all sometimes.
Especially when I've been 'up', 'down' is so much further down.
None of it the wild variation is anybodies concern.
None of it at all.

I struggle to contain it all, to carry the responsibility and to know
that the burden is mine, and mine alone.
That it can only ever be mine.
It's hard to know that sometimes.

Through the 'grey' things can seem really clear, but assuming
they are real is to mistake silhouettes and shadows for reality.

It's better to know I'm alone all along.
To become accustomed to just being.
To practice keeping it all in. Keep the shutters safe and locked.
To avoid the rude awakening, coming upon it suddenly,
materialising out of the mist.

Having thought you knew where you were in the dim quiet,
coming upon reality,
can be just like walking into an electric fence.

soundtrack: suzanne vega, night vision

The Grey

I've been floating recently.

Into the bleak places, through the layers of grey,
sometimes I surface to the light.
In this new space of mine there is at least light,
most days I get a couple hours, if I'm here to see it.
If I am I will bask in it, literally, and for a little
while I feel like a person. I feel real, I feel whole.
The gold washes over me and penetrates the dark
parts. Then, like a switch is flicked, a reaction begins
and my soul begins to fire, the glow from inside
slowly spreading throughout me.
Giving me the energy to handle everything.

I don't know why the feeling can't last.
But it can't.
I begin to sink again.

furniture

My Bed. Without you in it, the most pointless piece of furniture in existence.