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.

Want to submit to this site and share your story, art, or article related to mental health or mental illness? Email

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