Nodus Tollens

Seasons

Seasons have passed me by quite rapidly,
Winter, spring, summer, and now fall.
But as the leaves turn brown, mere epiphanies become my reality;
The lingering remains of last year's fever dream has come to light.

Stained glass eyes, color the windows of my house with tears.
Once was a brand new city, became an abandoned dystopian fantasy.
The days before and after I turned 18 perturbed illicit thoughts in my mind,
Circling my body with trepidation and disenchantment.
Slowly, hope became a dangerous entity to believe in.

Covered in silent battles and emotional scars
The turmoil of living has prisoned my mind and body
Subliminal thoughts devoid me of the wisdom I need
I carry ghosts of past selves, too weak to let go of me
My life cycle's continuity impeded by the shadows of misery.

The rust on the swing set I've played with has settled in its frame.
I'm still on the playground, by the wooden bench with my name faintly carved on the craggy seat, waiting for the world to stop and just wait for me.
Let me try to catch my breath for a minute and take in the monotony of life and it's challenges in a better state than now.

But alas! Winter, spring, summer, and fall passed by faster than a blink of an eye.
Now I'm all alone, a mere portrait of a woman with a sunken face.
Too young to withstand and be the kind of sad I am.
Yet ribbons and waves of emotions I don't understand run through my being all the time.

The anhedonia has filled my once half empty cup to the brim,
I've tried everything I could think of doing yet the space keeps growing,
My youth is slipping through my fingers with being in my head often.
It's tiring seeing the world through rose colored lenses to even be in the same room as happiness.

Even then, the years have not been tender to my soul, it became older with the doubt and regrets it carried.
Minutes became days. Days became months. Months became years. Years became decades.
The morosity I feel is still growing as the seasons change.
Seeping out of the body I call my own, every crevice is covered in dysphoric anomalies.

I cannot bear to look at me the same.
The temperatures change as my feelings fetter.