I have fallen
into a blunt gray stony haze.
That life is thick muted shadows.
It is an isolationist's view.
Black and white judgments
come into frame.
Prerogatives are flatly stated in black.
Stark and bleak are about the face.
The martyr lives within.
Self-defaming is worse
than you could name me.
Each step shadows as my death walk,
limited and finite without recovery.
Whittled down and without means,
are the festering of feelings.
Abandonment is of a reoccurring kind.
Self-idiocy is imposed.
A mental boot camp's discouragement
is at the end of every day,
it is as day one all over again.
Yet, deep within this fix,
there is the caring of others
who hurt in more obviously painful ways.
To give a kindness is a potion
of self to share,
by turns of heartfeltness towards others.
Maybe relief will come to me incidentally
as it always has in the past.
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