Darkness at the Break of Noon

When does it become too much to bear?
Flood gates threaten to burst,
Held whole by will alone,
Saltwater streams sting
Eyes screwed shut to damn the flow.

No one can see, No one must know.

Weight pressing down,
Dull pressure gripping; squeezing.
Pinned to the ground,
Getting hard to breathe.
It would be so easy to just stop.


This poem was originally published on Darkness of His Dreams on 1/18/17.

One thought on “Darkness at the Break of Noon

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