Again.

Walking in the dark, holding my own hand, forgetting what has heightened my fear.
Worried because I know I was worried about something but what, what?
My skin crawls like a million hungry insects. I can feel every follicle flex.
My anxiety takes over as my rational mind fades slowly to the back.
I'm talking to myself over and over.
Retracing my last internal conversation like walking backwards in a maze.
Maybe this is insanity.
Maybe it's depression.
Maybe it's a lack of sleep followed closely by regression.
Whatever it is, I have no control. Shutting down.
Slipping slowly into a corner.
For there is nothing but safety in a solid place where I can get really small.
Find my facilities and take comfort in the permanence of a wall.
Random irrational rhyming...out of my control.
Another bid to make things fit. I can't help it.
Its like a sickness,
and you are witness, excuse me Miss; but there is something amiss.
I like to blame it on the rain that beats my roof, makes me question my sanity while draining me.
A white-less winter, a colour-less world, a black and white nightmare, and a tiny scared girl.
All less romantic than I had planned. All a little too much to stand. But then again I do it again and again.