Poetry Blogs (it)

All around me the fog dances 

I look on to see as it tests its chances 

Waiting for me to open the gate 

It waits 

I stare at it as it does the same 

I take a step closer it watches 

I take another 

It's eyes slightly bigger 

I stop 

I open my mouth to speak 

Nothing comes out 

The fog whispers do not 

I stay where I stand  

Not daring a step 

It's fingers...

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Don't call it a comeback
My depressions been here for years
I still smoke myself to sleep
And calm my anxiety with 3 or more beers

It's just goes to show
That I should stay in my lane
I stare at the bottom of an empty bottle
Just to focus on something other than pain

I knew it'd come back
I knew it was too good to be true
Depression isn't a state of mind
It's something that controls you

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