tearing down my walls ;;

whispers, they spring from the blackness of the night to
devour all life, cheer, joyful thought, drag me
out of sugar and citrus fruits to a
lulling sense of hate. induce me into a
half-drunken stupor of selfishness, self-pity, selfish self-pity,
ill will and a strange urge to gnash my teeth into a pillow,
tear my hair out - spill my lungs out - bleed my throat dry of
words unspoken and feelings unthreaded into words

these thoughts don't mix with people, darling. they only scream when
i'm alone

there is a prize like a mirage, an image that seems to be within my
grasp, a snapshot of a future that i just can't see as real. and as the
days turn into weeks and the weeks turn into years, the
seconds melt into puddles of sludge. pull up your wellington boots,
it's time to go dancing in the rain, or is it not? prancing in a
thunderstorm will only get you struck by lightning, pelted by hailstones or
torn up by wind. besides, it's too late to go out now-
too late at night to knock on your neighbour's door
feel human skin brush against yours as you pull her in for a hug

take these pent-up thoughts of failure and
spit on them, someone

please, anyone ;;

[pull me into your arms]

and destroy these monsters

these welled-up pits of depression,thoughts of opression;
these nightmares that creep up, these
wolves made of wispy shadows, dreams that have been
held up on a pedestal then shattered like glass, these thoughts that
come to haunt me, gnaw at the edges of my being. these things that
never hang over my head, never stare me in the face

until the hour before the dawn