It's a strange realisation

and the quaintest sensation

when you realise you are lost inside your head

Those feels you've been hiding

rollercoaster, spinning, sliding

just a few of the motions that you dread

Because when thoughts come haunting

from those situations, dauting

you tuck them safe away never to be found

And although you seem just fine

you'll realise that in time

you'll dig yourself much deeper in the ground

So lost in your own memory

that it's so hard to really see

that what you are missing is still there

Inside the deepest places

along with feelings and faces

you're walking in the darkness and despair

Feel the urge to fight it

yet you stumble into the pit

and more and more depression falls your way

You keep on believing

that it's you that you're seeing

when the image in the mirror slips away

Accept that it's you there

when you contemplate your own stare

within that shattered mirror on the shelf

And cry those tears so lonely

for you, your one and only

and finally, perhaps, accept yourself.

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Eric's picture

Even at 3:20 in the morning, this poem is still so beautiful.