In My Head
She's in her head again. Racing through the labyrinth of thoughts. These mind games come uninvited. Tricking my emotions while my energy pays the price.
Overthinking. Overwhelmed. Like a tsunami, they take her under and she feels too weak to swim. She's dragged to the bottom where her light fades to darkness.
Strangely comfortable with this toxic cycle, sometimes she clings to her pain. Tears cleanse sins like rain. A tiny voice in her head tells her to try. But the surface seems so far away, the voice fades. All she wants is some better days. She's grown comfortable in her darkness, seems allergic to the sun. Jealous of the normal people who effortlessly have fun. What's normal anyway, but a measure to never add up to. Strange and comfortable in the blue of her tides, the ebb and flow of waves of emotion. She floats to the surface and remembers her strength. Breathing in hope and exhaling doubt, she's caught in the wake of her fear. The voice returns and whispers: "keep swimming my dear."