The dark bead dropped on the cold tile shattering into tiny droplets before fusing again into a dull black mass. The edges creeping forward, outward, swallowing the border lines, expanding, launching thin arms, with gaunt, bony fingers. Soon the dark is all there is outside in, filling the lungs, crushing the air, the life.

I'm not a pair,
I'm odd.
The ark has sailed
Without me on board.

I’m counting my tears,
Two, three, four.
Mini acrid reservoirs,
A hundred and two, three, four.
Crystallising on my skin,
A thousand and two, three, four.
And I’m a pillar of condemned,
A million of two, three, four.

Wall one for my pictures.
Wall two for my words.
Wall three for my structure.
Wall four for my hoards.
Wall one for my times.
Wall two for my space.
Wall three for my dimes.
Wall four for my pace.
Wall one is falling.
Wall two coming loose.
Wall three is squalling.
Wall four for my noose.

I’m solo, carrying my own, slightly off, tune.
No vivace, no allegro, not even andante.
Just a bitter adagio elegy, fading out inside me.

It's been a year, year, year,
That I am here, here, here.
I'm sinking deep,
Into my sleep.
I want to leave,
So I can live, live, live.
But I can't go,
When I'm so low, low, low.
I need to prove,
That I can move.
I wish knew,
What I should do.
Do, do, do.

The bottom seems deeper today, darker, wider, more consuming.
The bottom feels eerier tonight, scarier, heavier, more looming.
Yet somehow there's a familiarity.
Have spent so long here, it's some kind of home.
The phantoms and demons keep me company.
But is it better than being alone?

Around the wall,
Around the well,
Around the dangling rope.
I'm pacing,
Try tracing,
My misplacing hope.

The pit is damp, the air compressed.
The walls too steep, my mind possessed.
No wind, no movement, not a breath.
Just thoughts and visions, smell of death.
I look up, the sky is black.
I once was out, but now I'm back.
Outside the pit, on outer ground.
Though on parole, my soul was bound.
The thoughts, the visions came with me.
Inner, outer, never free. Never free. Never free.

Left leg red,
I wriggle.
Right hand blue,
He sprouts one more.
Left hand green,
I contort.
Right leg yellow,
He has four.
Right hand green,
I squirm.
Left leg blue,
His is two meters long.
Left hand yellow,
I fall down.
Playing twister with my depression,
There goes the gong.
I always lose, he always wins,
He cheats and I play along.

The rope is long,
I tie a knot.
I wrap it round,
I'm getting fraught.
My feet unstable,
A dizzy head.
Don’t like it here,
I pull a thread.
A lonesome strand,
Is now all tangled.
I pull the rest,
The rope gets frazzled.
I look around,
No one is near.
I get off,
I leave the pier.
A quick glance back,
The waters foam.
The boat is drifting,
I'm going home.

Me, myself and I, are playing a game.
Me then, me now and me mental,
Are crumbling the shame,
Casting the blame,
Away from me,
Me then, me now and me later.

A rotting, wasted putrid mass,
Underneath the pastured grass.
Steaming stench of oozing bile,
Wrapped in unbelievable smile.

My steps are echoed by no one's.
My loneliness synced with the moon's.

The darkness flowed through the cracks in the floor, enclosing one tile at the time. Filling the room with a shadowy grip. Long, grim, fleshless fingers climbed up, into my throat. Clutching my air, leaving dark osseous char marks.

My endometrium is worthy,
To embed my future.
Just two things left now,
Embrace my past
And untangle my present.
If only I knew how.

Blockage,
At my age,
Is sad.
No flow,
I know,
I had,
For so long,
Was wrong,
And mad
With thoughts,
And lots
Of guilt, and add
To that,
The gnat,
Inside my brain.

Some days I wander,
Others I don’t.
Some days I wonder,
Others I haunt,
Me.
Still, some days I wander,
Others I swirl.
Some days I wonder,
Others I curl,
Inside,
And hide,
From me.

One on the shelf,
Above the bed.
On the mantle,
Near the bread
Box, in the corner,
Of the kitchen top.
In the bathroom,
Next to the soap.
One more is my bookmark.
Another with the spoons.
Surrounded by my imperfections,
Mornings, nights, and noons.

It is heavy, the brick,
With another on top,
And a third,
Forth,
Stacked in a *****.
Weighing down, razing my heart.
Squeezing all blood and life out.
Killing joy, extinguishing air.
Bruising, abusing,
Crumbling prayer.
Where will it quit,
This tower of pain?
Will it before or after,
I go insane?

I need to be, I need to try, I need to have, I need to do,
more, more, more, just,
alive. often. air. more.

****** words are not attractive,
Their charm invisible, misplaced.
Covered in red plasma,
Concealed, unseen, unpleasant.
****** words, of ****** days,
Are put to rest.

In a deep deep well,
Where I dwell,
I can smell,
All the stale, stale,
Souls.
And I hear,
Bells are near,
And it's clear,
Death is here,
In the walls.
Now I know,
Fear will grow,
Hearts will slow,
Life will flow,
Down the halls.
Then last,
Low the mast,
Trumpet blast,
Life has past.