Descent

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It was about November when I

began my descent,

slowly, softly sinking.

That night it picked up like quick sand.

Clouded lungs to match my clouded mind.

Fists clenched tight,

nails digging into the palms of my hands.

Lying in your bed, shaking quietly,

overwhelmed but without tears.

Gently you touched my back,

still breathing, yes, but there was little desire to.

They began the countdown for a new year.

Nothing. I felt nothing.

No hope. No joy. No excitement.

That nothingness swept down my spine 

and crept into my toes.

And then I felt everything.

Hurt, weak, lost, ashamed.

The emotions needed to escape,

through tears, or blood

or I would surely combust.

I was scared.

With no introduction

and no explanation,

a silhouette of the darkness from three years ago

stood at my door.

I needed your arms, your warmth, your protection.

I need your help.

 

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