I have tried to rise above but some days are like mires,

 

memories bubble up from the ground to catch my feet,

and there’s no pushing past the darkness

when the backs of my eyelids become cinema screens

for the voice in the my head that’s always judging every move I make.

It tells me friends are only pretending to my face,

and when I’m gone they are talking about me.

It knows exactly what they are saying when I’m out of earshot

so it repeats the words like a mantra

over the patter of memories I thought dealt with,

sealed into their graves long ago,

but somehow resurrected just when everything seemed

to be going so well.

This type of cold cannot be shrugged off,

instead it chills every bone in my body

to the point where I become brittle as glass,

ready to shatter at the slightest tremor.

Somebody tell me,

how do I rise above this?

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Daily Post: Above