Internal Visitor

A poem

Photo by Ehimetalor Akhere Unuabona on Unsplash

Recurring cycles of pain come in waves
like those of the daily tides.
The yearly passing of seasons differentiate
the progression of my insanity’s moods.
Drugs are my straightjacket,
restraining the pain of existing in the black void,
threatening to pull me under
to envelop me in its dark caress.
How do I endure being swallowed
by the darkness of the void,
inch by inch,
like a snake digesting its meal?
I’m on the brink of…