the battle
The clouds are dark
but I don’t care
I find myself dancing, dancing around
in the rain and smelling the fresh air
I close my blue eyes
with so much to fear
the fear of all those ugly demons
that are living so near
I discover I’m at battle
in a war I can’t possibly win
I am fighting with all that I’ve got
but realize that my weapons just aren’t enough
I’m running, running so fast
I run and I never look back
I promise myself to struggle to the end
I must not turn back, until I finally win
SEG
*When I wasn’t writing about depression and death I was struggling to find words to keep me here. A written language I could manipulate to fill all the empty spaces inside. A beautiful picture can emerge through ugliness. I used words and still do to motivate and express myself when I am overwhelmed. The feelings easily expressed themselves on paper. If I didn’t feel heard or couldn’t find my voice I always knew I could find something to write on. I have written on some pretty strange items over the years. I believe I wrote this after being told I had clinical depression and anxiety disorder. I would have been 18.
