The world of this dark cloud speaks feelings normally saved for an analyst’s couch.
The sadness is overwhelming,
And time seems to be still as the dead air which surrounds,
This almost broken heart.
The voice from the peanut gallery shouts,
“Every cloud has a silver lining”
Written by Pollyanna on an optimistic day,
My heart thuds with a hard landing response.
Sparks of anger fizzle out,
As I move back into the darkness.
As I do.
Until a veil is lifted,
From these scaly eyes,
Revealing a silent presence from within.
Which is with me always*.