being trapped in your mind is lonely

stalagmites of daily anxieties

towering, rising higher than the murky fog

blocking out escape, amending your fate.

cesspools of agony, longing to desecrate

when the clouds overhead open up

acid rains upon the substrate

it burns, but it is grounding.

the air is usually silent and damp,

breathing becomes a chore

the gravel in your lungs grates against your ears.

it's a sound you'll come to abhor

with one path throughout,

sown heavy with doubt

where birds seem to sing "Never, more"

you'll come to an ending

a sane little secret

warnings whispered in the wind

like, "like turn back, unsafe"

please heed them.