Skull Dragon Swamp from Pixabay

Out Of The Mire

Greg Prince
3 min readApr 12, 2019

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Journey back from the gap of distress.

Down in a hole.
I’ve lost control.
All in my head.
Tired and slow but all I want to do is get up and go.
Less than myself.
All here yet gone.
The blackness reflecting my face underneath all the masks.
Piercing every thought.
Stomping every try.
Slipping, slipping, slipping deeper inside.
Run in a corner but there’s nowhere to hide.

Darkness taking control.
Cuts bleeding, shrinking my soul.
Tramples sweet dreams.
Emotions are raw.
Standing but feet can’t find the floor.
Passage back blacked out.
Path is a faint memory
Peeling, scraping, pounding, still can’t find the door.

Void is me around and complete.
Sky is angry, sky is bleak.
Stuck in the center.
Feeling alone.
Small voice underneath cracking to speak.
Don’t want to listen.
Don’t want to hear.
Demands my attention.
Won’t shut up.
Must be clear.

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Greg Prince

Bringing real feelings along with messages of inspiration and imagination to life. Awakening is the symptom of my infectious condition. Poetry is my condition.