|POETRY|

{Bad Again}

I think I knew it was getting bad again,

When my chest felt like it was being squeezed through a tube.

And I think I realized it was getting bad again,

When my emotions started to block off,

And my eyes dulled to angry pools of silver and cobalt.

And I think it I knew when it was bad again,

Because when I when I pushed everything down,

The dam burst and the water works commenced.

And I think I remembered the bad again,

When my appitite ceased,

Or when my will to stay concious drifted like my thoughts.

And I think I noticed when it started getting bad again,

When the weight on my chest got heavier,

Harder to carry,

Easier to fumble,

To crumble,

To drop.

And I think,

When it started to get bad again,

I ignored it for the most part,

The attention seeking voice in my head,

The worry,

The guilt of nothing in particular,

The sorrow,

The anger,

The tremble of my fists as I watch,

Like the spectators in a Roman Gladiator's arena,

As my world,

As my emotions,

Disipate...

And I know this now,

Cause it got bad again,

And the weight is dragging me,

This pressure,

This responsibility,

This ticking time bomb ready to pop from the terror everything holds.

And I feel this now,

Because my eyes burn,

And my muscles grow weak,

And the weight is winning...

But when I really knew it was bad again,

Was when I started hating being the comforter,

Instead of the comforted,

Or when the strength that I had while holding up my burdens started to dwindle,

Until,

Like Achilles,

My heels grew weak,

And I crumbled beneath the weight of my implications,

And I fell...