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Night Fights

The long dark night is here

Agony and fear being present

Waking me up

In the hour of the wolf

Half awake

I am in my bed and cannot run

Freezing in panic

While the monster

Approaches

Opening my eyes

To face the end

But all I see is

The empty void

Of every day life

The dark room and

The warm balmy air

Surrounding me

Telling me not to fear

What is not

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Letter From a Codependent Madmanæ

I just don’t know

I just can’t tell

The difference

Living with someone

That makes you lose

Your mind in the deep blue dawn consciousness

A Saturday afternoon in January

Slowly losing your consciousness, your clothes,

Your things, your money and eventually your life

Fighting and losing all the time

Finally you see this as

Interpretations of reality

Am I mentally ill or

In a situation where I lost perception of reality

My ability to say no, to feel

And know what I feel

All that stress makes me crazy

But is it in me or around me

Where do I end and she starts?

Everyday I have to do this, this and this

Because she is so stressed reading the newspaper in sofa for a far to long time

She is not able to deal with everyday life of cleaning, making food, planing

It is all so stressful for her so it all have to wait until the very last moment

While we around her cover up

Codependent is a good word

Codependent of what?

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Monsters

Fighting unlikely monsters at night

In my mind

They have strange shapes and forms

No peace of mind

And speaks my language

Only agony remains here

The end not in sight

That’s it

But not quite

Hollow creatures

Moving up and down

The walls of my cell

Prisoner of the mind

Chained to a surreal reality

That might exist

Or not

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Circles

The mind moves around

Like a nervous dog

Sniffing on old

Memories of failure

And abuse

.

What could have

Been done different

Or better

Too late

Too late

Creating a fantasy

That evaporates

In thin air

The mind try to

Rest

But there is no

Refuge in sleeping

Flashback returns

Again and again

Like a beggar

Never satisfied

Never happy

Always demanding

That stones

Turns to gold

.

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Sinking In

When the energy is lost

You sink into the coma of

Self-reflection steering into that

Strange mirage that pretend to be you

The turbid picture makes a strange impression

Depression and self-pity combined with

Contempt is acid for the soul

Even mindless drinking is better than that

Our mind is constructed with the Thanatos

In mind creating the option of suicide quick

Or slow that takes decades

Only mad action can cure that