Depressive Episode, Day 41, Three AM
A poem
At 3 AM, my mind is my enemy.
The shadows are waiting
biding their time.
I hide under the covers
but there is no escape.
My mind races.
My thoughts careen,
bouncing off the sides of my skull
creating a cacophony of noise.
Of screeching voices and jumbled images.
Cruel words and tormenting memories
stampede through my brain.
I can’t remember what I had for dinner but
I remember every humiliation
I’ve ever endured
with crystal clarity.
I’m a lump on a thin mattress.
An unwashed, bloated body
tangled with limp, lank hair,
ugly and lacking all vitality and spirit.
I don’t have the strength or endurance
to drag myself into the shower.
There is no sweet water, no cleansing rain
to wash away the grime and detritus.
No purification of my soul
and no forgetting.
As the red glaring numbers
on the digital clock trek on,
I wander aimlessly
through a familiar landscape…
