Just the smallest potion, a round blue pill, a softly spoken spell. It goes down easy, this small bit of magic.
A potion to still my mind, clear my thoughts, take away the pain, the loneliness of being by myself. By myself. Not a bad thing. But the most horrible prison, the prison thought. If I can’t think, don’t have to feel.
The sweet indigo surrender. Turn off the bright light in my mind. The light that shows all the cobwebbed corners, where mortals fear to tread.
To stop the dreams. Dreams of the past or of the future. A future I will not find. I find bliss in my mind, bliss stolen with a flutter of the eyes.
The cogs turning. Turning on the mechanism of my mind. Words falling onto paper like lost hopes, dreams and lost thoughts. A flutter, a thought, a feeling. STOP – must move – one arm – then the other. Go thru the motions. Try not to think, not to feel, not to hope. So I don’t fall – try to fly on wings of hope.
Thin filaments, softly flowing. They are like a dream, then gone, like a memory – then falling, falling fast, faster than hope, faster than sound, fear and happiness. Catching a glimmer, a wisp, like sun thru the clouds. A flutter. A sigh. A light to find strength.
The last box in an empty attic, always the last box, the last hope, the first fear, the first dream.
A dream of a soft touch, a quiet presence, mortal and real – a glow, a reassuring weight, a caress, a wonderful agony.
An overwhelming flutter – a dream – fleeting – falling – a teardrop falling, bittersweet and salty – A memory of lightness, weightlessness – potion – spell – take your hold, slow my thoughts, my dreams, allow me to open the last box in the attic of my mind once again, and again, and again.
Hold me in your mockery of the embrace seek so badly. The embrace I look for in every moment of my existence.
Keep me afloat in the sea of my sorrow – on my flimsy raft of potion – Take me away from myself – to be loose in the darkness of sleep – the only embrace I have.
I am uninvited in my own mind, a stranger in my own body. An unknown in a wicked universe – A flutter – a blink – one leg – then the other – Just a flutter –
– Written by Kahlan222 on 12/05/2005
*just a note: the medication mentioned in the poem was my antidepressant and was neither blue nor round…I took some creative liberty there. This was more a bought of free writing than an actual poem. I left it largely exactly as it was written…a raw unfiltered insight into a dark time in my depressed mind. But I re-read it recently and felt like I should share it. – ❤️