SNAKE

Dear snake,

I don’t think I’ll ever be the same.

Sometimes there’s hope, but I always go back to it.

It feels like I have to.

To wrap myself up in my thoughts and go back.

To those bad times, those unforgettable times.

It will always be there, in my head, tempting me to go back to it

I struggle and grapple with the bad thoughts that creep in at the late hours of the night.

Or in the midst of the Day.

It has no preference, anytime is a good time.

It’s like a snake

Slithering, plotting to slowly destroy me.

And I gave myself to it. Countless times.

Because I am the Snake…

I’m the one doing the destroying, discarding myself into countless pits.

I’m the one Desperately searching for every flaw, every fault.

I’m the one that Drowned in it, confined myself to this.

Sometimes,

I get a peek at the surface,

I get to feel who I used to be.

Happy. Content.

That fragment of sun peeks in through the shadows and illuminates me a bit more each time.

And I reach for it

I reach

I reach for more

Just a little bit more

Then it’s over.

I get pulled back down.

It gets dark again.

I hear the whispers.