spilled ink – Page 18 – Hayden Winston

Existential thoughts rise at 3am,

Creeps in through the bedroom window with the cold air,

Memories spin vivid like television flashbacks,

Count each drop of blood, each tear, each moment sulking in the bathtub,

It was what it was –

You are still you and you are here now,

So what will it be?

Presence

Here, yet not really here.

The way we grow with time can seem so surreal,

Can’t bring to mind the pain you used to feel.

Always bleeding, always aching,
Searing hate and agony,
Drowning in the deepest blue,
And dying to love and be loved,
Until I shed the old me.

Keep steady, keep your eyes ahead,

Don’t get bogged down in the thick of things.

Darkness can sweep across your soul in seconds, if you allow it,

And chaos will roll in, in waves that seem to have no end,

But just like heavy clouds shrouding the sky,

They dissipate at the smallest touch of light.