blackness surrounds in charcoal billows,
sleepless stillness
head laid upon pillow.
isolation creeps,
though I prayed its beckon no sooner.
drifting through the limitless, barren lacuna.
metanoia of myself, induratized my mind.
though a beast, rantipole and restless
rages inside.
a quest irenic, and chaotic the same.
two sides of the same coin,
acceptance, and blame.
both
love and hate,
gorged and hollow.
cloaked over every
white pill I swallow.
to go to bed at night,
and awake with morning day.
is it to rerun through
the monotonous cycle I've built?
or to quietly keep me sane?
