back end of a bad cycle

the depression
has a rigid fluidity
and sometimes
all i can do
is give in to the
effervescent madness
claw furrows into
the walls of my
self imposed prison
even as i know
it is a cell of
slowly degrading cells
unified in entropy
yet seeking some
sort of immortality
in the empty refrains
of keeping myself
fully restrained
as i drizzle acidic
desires in defiant
flicks of a broken
quivering quill

a doddering old fool
in paper maché armor
hoping to fall in
battle attempting to
slay the demons who
howl incessantly all
throughout the long
nights spent in a
semistatic surrender
fighting a losing war
against my own particular
set of chemically
deficient meanderings

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