Tags
Communication, creative, Dependency, Depression, lyrics, Out of Sight, poems, poetry, verse, writing
Well I don’t think that I
Can take this anymore,
When I’m lying here again
On the kitchen floor,
With a drowning heart
And the bottles all dead,
And the countdown ringing
Echoes in my head.
Outside in the black night
Where the voices still ring,
Each one a bit louder
To mask out everything,
But later much later
Beneath blankets they crawl,
In stuporous dreaming
Denying the fall.
And when the Sun comes around
See the time’s just the same,
Don’t reach too deep inside
To find someone to blame,
Close your eyes to the day
And hold on to the night,
Keep the cellar door locked
And the demons out of sight.
Well I don’t think that I
Can take this anymore,
When I’m lying here again
On the kitchen floor,
With a drowning heart
And the bottles all dead,
And the countdown ringing
Echoes in my head.
© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson 2000-2020
Very evocative, Chris. Putting on that front, that face but of course it takes it’s toll, excellent writing.
Thanks, Mark – I think that this is something that we all do, but, as you say, it takes more from you than you expect. Glad you connected with this.
I don’t think that I can take this anymore either. There, I said it. Not denying it.
Great read, Chris.
In so many ways, B. So glad that this resonated with you.
Great work, Chris.
Cheers, River, I appreciate you reading this.
Honestly this reminds me of a sort “internal monologue” I had with myself one time I attempted suicide. That time I had taken two bottles of pills and I hoped to never wake up again. In a way, that night I sort of made peace with my darkness as I was slipping out of consciousness. Anyway, this poem brought that whole night back for me. Excellent piece.
Your response to this leaves me with mixed emotions, Tara. In one way I’m delighted that it created the kind of emotional response that I had intended, yet on the other hand I’m sorry if I dragged you to a place you’d probably not want to revisit. Thank you for such honesty and feeling able to share this slice if your life with me. Take care. Chris
It was a long time ago and I am a different person now. I don’t feel pain or heartache in the remembering, but I do recall the days leading up to that decision and the aftermath. It was merely, for me, a walk down a memory. Thank you for that, Chris. Your words always transport me.
My take wasn’t altogether as tragically dark, but rather another of those moments when we cannot absorb more than we are humanly able. Ultimately something has to give. Then we get up, get on with life and do it again. These lines:
With a drowning heart
And the bottles all dead,
epitomises our condition today due to all the craziness around. On a lighter note, my thoughts also were taken to the fact this would make a great song lyrically. I hope this makes sense. Great writing either way.
I love your interpretation of this, Anita – and in many ways it is true, we do always find a way or reason to move on. Crazy times? Maybe, but are they that much crazier than the past? I’m not sure.
And yes, I did sort of have a melody in mind, so thanks for picking up on that. I appreciate your feedback on this.
You’re most welcome.