The Internal Turn

it starts slow, deep down

undetectable to the gaze of the eye

it digs in, foraging

carving space in the places you hide

it is simple, really

one unspoken word

the smallest thing

that you let slip silently by

once planted, the tiniest seed

begins to take root as if into stone

the root becomes a web

an intricate maze of lines

exquisitely forming a fortress

that cannot be breached

and then into the darkness

into the shadows, silence speaks

until all that you hear

is the empty hollow din

the lonely and the quiet

take over full control

and then in this prison

you slowly pass the time

minutes turn to hours, hours into days

and the blur of their passing

simply turns you numb

taking the edge off the numbness

with whatever you can find

your pour the endless loss

down your throat

then time is spent recovering

the vicious cycle spins

so that all you have to focus on

is yourself