Title at the end

It creeps — tentacles enwrap


The mind succumbs.

Stolen. Held to ransom

For impossible demands.

Clarity is clouded,

Friendship tested

- to the limit.

Loyalty now benign:

Sorry, who are you?

Eye contact is there

through an opaque screen.

Whimsical? Taciturn?

Absent: inside and out.

Leave me alone.

Will I ever come back?

Where is my life?


It has become my comfort,

my consort: depression.