MORNING COFFEE WITH THE BLACK BEAST

Fog
and Dark
3 AM
Water drips from
eaves and trees
quiet world
worries
racing past
the inner eye
Am I desperate
enough?
How long can
all of this
continue?

Anger
Fear
Sadness
Held in
make way for
the Black Beast
to prowl
eating hope
ravaging
the soul
so
alone

Why so much guilt?
Why so much shame?
How many have I failed?
Where do you hide from yourself?
I am weak.
I am crazy.
I am glad that
others can
not see
this
darkness.

Another day
to live
knowing that
I have bound my
body in
invisible
barbed wire
and
iron mask

A part of me knows
this feeling is
futile
and a part knows
it is real.
I walk forward
in dark woods
in fog

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Depression is a ‘Black Beast’. It doesn’t show up as often as it used to. Writing is one of the weapons I use to subdue it.

Dana Sanford 1/11/2019