The stars lit me up
And lined my pockets
The dancing wisked me away
And spun me up
They won’t leave
They lift me over the fence
Over the moon
They dig my grave
And soak my bones
♡Saschia
Seasons of solitude Or Seasons of hell
Posted byJaynePosted inPoetryTags:acceptance, anxiety, art, artist, creative writing, depression, writers life, writing
Published by Jayne
Jayne is a writer. On her free time she likes to be with her family hiking outdoors and traveling. New England is her home and place of birth. When asked what she wants to teach the world she replied, "Don't stop searching. Too many times, in my old life, I put my search aside for more 'important matters.' I didn't realize the thing I was searching for held what was most important; my soul purpose." Jayne works daily improving her craft and at times can get down on herself, but her favorite morning mantra is "It's a new day." and that's what she strives to start with. View more posts
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Feelings of sadness and illusions
is the product of this madness,
that we know and call depression
between all the mess & confusion
we’ve discovered doing our best
lead us to create its disillusion.
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Madness is the product of the search for self which at times can lead to depression. Ambivalence is the product of seeing the whole picture.
Doing your best looks like what? Because sometimes your best is quitting and sometimes it’s sticking it out. Regardless of the choice the illusions still dance and the walls still talk that’s what I like to call imagination. 🙂
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