The winter will kill me.
The weight of cloudy days and chilly air hold me down.
I'm drowning.
My mind is a frozen lake and I am trapped beneath it.
I've all but wasted the pockets of air that are desperately trying to push through the solid ice.
Every day is now a waiting game.
Do I drown?
Or can I hold on until the weather warms?
Until the ice melts and I feel like I can get a grip on these thoughts and suffocate them,
until winter greets me once again with bottles of pills in each hand.
A dreaded war that each one us wants to win,
though my armor grows weaker and I grow tired.
The winter is lonely.
I am lonely inside my head.