Archeology

Circa 2015?

Struggling with bipolar disorder, ADHD.

Working full time, working on a second associates degree to get out of food service.

Out of the frying pan and into... Another frying pan.

Anyway:

Hear your words, and then they're gone Mind is racing, not a single thought Winding up while time expires No room for action, too soon I tire Meanings left me, like ink from the pen Dark thoughts linger, winding down again

Spiral tighter, drowning now, feeling empty A blackened shell Fighting and struggling and trying to break free Damping and hiding so you need not see Screaming and crying and reaching for me I’m losing myself in a dark static sea

I’ve eaten with fae, and now all tastes of ash Flavors, smells fleeting, no want for repast Conflict and clamor, surrounded, suffocated Forgetting, thoughts wander, lead me to be berated

I know what to do. I know I can do it. Fighting for life, struggling through it I know I can’t do this. They tell me it’s over The voices inside this landscape of disorder

The pendulum swings back and forth Each full round it lowers more

Soon I’ll strike soil, start digging a hole I may not resurface, no matter the toil