YOU ARE NOT ALONE - A companion online community discussion board for The Mental Illness Happy Hour podcast with Paul Gilmartin

When the

darkness

Reappears

I realize

It has spent

Many years

Paying rent

Inside

My own head

In a deep spot

I’d almost forgot

Was even

there.

At first,

My bed became

The only place

I felt safe

To hide my face

close my eyes

and let time

tick by.

Things fun before

Now a chore

It’s hard to explain, but

I felt

actual pain

Just opening the door

To try

once more

To find

something

Worth waking

for.

My bedroom

felt consumed

With doom

a tomb

Memories everywhere

of change

of the good

of the bad

But it all made me sad.

There was no doubt

I had to break out

From the thoughts

In my head

Enabled

by my bed.

So instead

Of sleepy

bedroom dread

I found

my saving grace

the perfect place:

A parking space.

My newest

tomb

Became my car

Parked not far

Believe it

or not

In a Walmart

parking lot.

My spot

Felt secure,

I was sure.

I came at night

Very little light.

Finally alone,

I’d use my phone

To fill my mind

Leave darkness

behind

With movies

music

phone calls

Deep thought…

The most perfect spot

to write,

My tongue to bite.

Still,

Sometimes

outpoured tears

Leaving

make-up smears

But I felt so glad

I had found

a place

To not feel bad

About being sad.

I’m here

right now

It’s dark.

I hear the rain

Lightly fall

I sit and stall

Moving on

With my day.

Damn,

What an

emotional price

We pay

Pretending

we’re okay.

It takes its toll

feels like

A curse

to be within

my mind

A deepness

I can’t define

so I hide it

even deeper

inside.

Of course

I will get through

muscle memory

Sets in

Time to begin…

slap on a grin,

Go to my job,

Or maybe to school,

Pretend i’m “cool.”

Make jokes

And

if the day

evokes

feelings

of despair

Laugh it off

and pretend

I don’t care.

It seems unfair

That I’m aware

My body wears

A heavy heart

But still

I keep it apart

From those around

I don’t want it

To be found.

I’d rather wait

Until it’s time

For the

parking lot

To face this

Thought.

Only then

Can I start

To separate

my feelings

apart

and

Numb my heart.

I crack open

windows,

Night air

blows,

A deep breath

I take in,

hairs stand up

on

my skin.

I make it through

Because

this view

Has a few

Stars

that shine.

Those stars

align ,

reminding me

Of something

Devine.

It’s presence

always

Right on time

As sadness

peaks

And tears roll

Down my

cheeks

The presence

speaks

“Don’t cry

Wipe away

that tear

Don’t you know, my dear?

You will be alright.

There is no reason

that darkness

can’t be as beautiful

than light.

You see

If the world was

too bright

then how could we

see the stars

At night?”

Thank you for posting this. Many parts feel familiar.
Have you been to poetry slams/festivals or open mike nights?

The spoken word is wonderful!

Snoringdog