The lock slid into place,
and the sun was no more.
The world around me had fled;
every had neuron wilted until dead.
The spiders wove a message-
the greatest self-loathing to date.
The sun shined,
but the flowers would not meditate.
I sat near the cobwebs
as they feigned an adorned attention.
(The snow and the sun
knew nothing of this.)
An absolute exhaustion,
but I answered my own question.
I arose with determination-
some arbitrary motivation.
The world was not so cold.
An imaginary exit sign
had been covered by mold.
My fingertips searched
for a euphoric nowhere,
but the doorknob was no longer there.
This post is a submission from Danny who wrote a Coping piece earlier this year for Dear Hope. Find his poetry page here to hear his intricate and detailed thoughts and creations.
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