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I don’t know how it keeps happening
It’s like a fog
And also not
No metaphor can correctly approximate

Waking up in the morning with sharp panic gripping my back
Exercising, working out,
Yea that’s what they always tell you to do when you’re distressed
Like righteousness before the gods of self help
Could exercise those thoughts

The term “demons” is a common trope
I’ve used it
Because it does feel like being possessed…

How many times I’ve emerged, flummoxed….

Sometimes you’re completely submerged in those waters
Other times you’re in the shallow muddy swamp

And this nothingness, it has a grip on us,
A distinctive, crushing grip, and I wonder,
How does it work?
WHY are we so seduced??

I guess we’ve all got an urge
Somewhere deep inside
Where we’re weary and tired
And we’re longing to rest