From Time to Time


My mind often feels like it’s filled with ink or fog. However, I know that moments like these pass a given time. Photo from Pinterest

My room is a prison from time to time

When it’s supposed to be a respite

It only hurts every now and again

And I promise

I fight it the best I can

With hobbies

And friends

And breaks.

But those hobbies seem to expire

Friends are finite

And breaks only end up breaking me

In half


I imagine my life a dream from time to time

Because when I stop

And when I think

A spiral begins

With curves and fears

Poisonous spikes

My mind becomes my room

And my room is my mind



A mess of the mental kind