I am prone to bouts of sadness
The air in my lungs squashed out
Like the crumpling of a tin can
Limbs too heavy to lift or move
Foetal position the most inviting
The world shut out from my ball
To just lie there and think
Absolutely nothing at all
But it doesn’t work that way
The weight increases
The longer that I wallow
Hope and light a distant memory
As the darkness welcomes me in
Growing blacker, visibility fading
Breathing more difficult
Want floating into oblivion
I know not if this sorrow is my own
Or my empathy carries it for another
But I’m drowning steadily
I gasp air every now and then
The intervals between getting longer
But I am the lucky one
For I have friends and family
Who offer me resuscitation
Should they see my hidden suffering
So I offer an ear should you be crying
For I know the crushing power of life
Eyes that do not see tomorrow
And a heart that is broken
Can heal in the rays of sunlight
Debbie Gravett © 2019.04.18
FOWC: Prone
Image by Pexels from Pixabay
Debbie Gravett 