When Alone and Overwhelmed

The rigor of staying sane is hard to steady, especially when the rain falls harder for those minds not ready. –It’s possible, you could eat lead. That dark remark, a whisper in a whiskey filled head. –It’s that simple. The suggestion, direct and stark, waits for a storm, a fatal flood. A lone candle stands melting white mixed with the mud, a fucking mess, as the dam breaks. Cannot handle the confusion, as I’m swept down the deluge of deep delusion.