Heft (an acrostic poem)

Image: img.apmcdn.org/b4b036300e2b3e7b3762293c68c77293b6b6b911/portrait/4833ba-20190410-black-hole.jpg

Heavy thoughts weighed her down

Entrapping here emotions in a depressive black hole

Finding herself unable to escape its impetuous gravitational pull

That was until she finally drank her coffee

Blur (an acrostic poem)

Image: res.cloudinary.com/grohealth/image/upload/$wpsize_!_cld_full!,w_2127,h_1409,c_scale/v1588092282/iStock-495041642.jpg

Blinking, trying to bring it into focus, but fails

Leaving the image muddy and obscured

Unable to clarify what was happening, she put on her glasses

Realizing that being old was the only thing she could see clearly in the morning

Float (an acrostic poem)

Image: media.nationalgeographic.org/assets/photos/380/216/1c9ab248-0c9c-413d-b0c8-ce8aec56b821.jpg

Finding themselves adrift among the waves of emotion

Lifted by the manic highs then dropped into the depressed lows

Oblivious to what used to be normal and peacefully flat

As they bobbed along, unable to control their emotional path

That was when they contemplated letting go and sinking into eternal oblivion to make it stop

Normally I don’t post more after a poem, but I want everyone to be careful. Most of the time we can float through our lives and manage what storms are sent our way. For some, they are ready to let go. If you are one of those wondering if it is worth holding on, please first call the suicide prevention hotline: 800-273-8255. It is worth that one last chance to find an anchor.