The River

Have you ever met The River?

Not just any river

Clear when close yet murky from afar 

Cascades off softly into the distance

A mist that is persistent in blinding me, finding me wherever I go

More like mirror

Less like fog

Reminds me of a dangerous mystery 

And all this - still

Stillness, still distracted 

Focus on the river 

This bank 

Of opportunity to cross the river

But demons that look familiar 

Dance at my waist

I cannot cross them

Have you ever met this river? 

It almost suffocates I can't think this through

At the edge of my mirror

Staring into my fears 

Horrors hell house

If Horton heard a whooo

It would probably be a hell hound 

But who will be the predator 

or prey I've yet to decide

I see why I'm at The River 

This solitude can be crushing

But escapism is a catch 22

When it happens in you

My soul runs to the bottom of my feet

 or to the back of my head

Trying to find a deep corner to lurk in.

I couldn't describe depression 

Even if Annie Wilkes told me

Get to working 

The clock is turning 

And I am still 

In bed

But I'm in, The River

And it's not a dream

Neither nightmare 

Just a catcher in the REM

Tell me, have you meet this river? 

Without a chill, you'll shiver 

Fingertips swell and shrivel 

The downstream is swift

Currently, my strength would drift

Weighted and baited 

The convenience of being distracted 

With hardly a human interaction

This River invites me to decay 

But I eventually resist and pull and uplift. To cross all this. 

Strength will be enriched 

Demons exorcised

The river can still be crossed

All is certainly not forever lost. 

Yet there will be a time when I have to cross once again. 

Have you met it? 

The River.