The Abyss

I have stood at the abyss

The edge of the volcano

To look down and see a whirlpool

Draining down to a cauldron

A cauldron which boils and bubbles

I did study Macbeth

A cauldron with fragments of darkness

The words I should not have said

The actions I should not have done

The silences when I should have spoken up

The speaking up that did not sound like me

The angers, the frustrations, the helplessness

The sadness, the emptiness, the loneliness

Flashes of moments

 Walking alone, wishing someone would see me

Weeping at a grave I feel is empty

Staring at pills in my hand

Startling at a banged door, a dropped plate

 Closing my eyes to flashing lights in the ICU

Gripping the steering wheel as the car spins

Drawing in breath as if to recapture spoken words

Racing out the door as the car pulls away

Reaching, grasping, fumbling, letting go

The cauldron of unfulfilled dreams, of broken hearts

Of bitter silences and stinky cheese words

The cauldron simmers, the cauldron boils

I draw away from its maleficent pull

 I feel its compelling magnetism

Yes, I know the abyss

It stirs up dark clouds in my world.

I walk away