Slipping

Mental health poem

I can feel myself slipping

I've been climbing this mountain for so long

But now, when solid ground is almost within my grasp,

It starts to rain.

I'm showered in my insecurities and doubt,

They fill every inch of air around me until I feel like I'm drowning.

I'm slipping and I don't want to fall,

But maybe I do.

Maybe I'll be able to breath at the bottom in a way I never have before.

A part of me sees this as the time when I am less cowardly.

The time when I just might

Fulfill the wishes that I'd never speak aloud.

The time when I'd gladly mistake

"Working on myself" for

"Hurting myself".

In those minutes when the rain slicks the rocks

That I am gripping so tightly that my palms are being sliced open,

I wonder why.

Why I keep trying to hold on.

What waits for me at the top of this mountain?
Is it a beautiful new world where I'd never feel this horrible again

Or is it another wall on densely packed rocks for me to climb?
Is it worth hanging on?

Author's Note

I wrote this really quickly and late at night so no harsh judgement please :)