An echo of my self

It has been a difficult few days for me and I am being brought face to face with my own demon, that deep voice that lingers and waits for vulnerability to come, before striking me in the rawest of places. I have tried many times to find expression for this, and here once more I throw words into the chasm, into the void, hopeful of receiving an echo of me.

rising up from the depths of my being 

to strangle me with all it's malevolence

it seeks to wrestle from me any esteem 

that might have found a breath

to choke life from any attempt at freedom

insidious and charming all at once

whispering gollum-like sweet nothings to my weary soul

it calls me home to the dark pool of self loathing.

that place where sinister comfort finds me

wretched comfort

old friend.

torn from the heart of love

i lie

naked

and ashamed

sensing that escape is futile

but hoping eternally for that release.

dragged backwards at every step forward

by tentacles that will not give respite

hands reaching towards the light that never comes

i will give in

and release myself into the arms of that hate

i will suffocate in my own doubt

and drown in the melancholic undertow

i will surrender to the gaping wound that binds me to myself

i will give in

i must give in

but i will never 

give up

English: Dark Pool 1920 Frank Weston Benson

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