The Swirl

The Swirl.
 I am dancing with depression and it has taken the lead.
Each step is to the beat of a broken heart.  I am so weary and I do not want to be here.
Anger cuts in for a spin and I catch a second wind and hope I will be able to bow out of this tango of torment.
 The music changes to the sound of a thousand tears and Shame grabs my hand for it's turn on the floor.  Round and round we go, Confusion cutting between us, on again and off again.
My soul is despondent but, there is no stopping this ball.
 I feel as though I cannot even catch a breath.
I am up and down, and sideways, and being flung from hither to yon and back again.
My emotions and my demons are colliding in a beautiful and yet hideous portrait.
The colors are vibrant but, the couplings disastrous.
I trip over my own feet but that does not phase the party around me. My only chance is to get up and dance or become overwhelmed and subdued.  I manage to take in a deep breath, but it is quickly stolen by Fear.
 Like a dark prince dressed in black and purple he tugs my arms to bring me to my feet and to also have this dance. He is so well put together and hard not to notice. His scent is intoxicating even when one knows that scent provokes their worst nightmares. He is so familiar to my life.  He pulls me close until our eyes meet. He brings back a recall so rich in remembrance I feel pain in my body. Broken bones that I had forgotten but, never had treated. I feel bruises on top of bruises from these flashbacks. Fear is not satisfied with the dance until I have become frozen in his clutch.
I hear shrieking in the music now, like an ill violin if one could make such a cry on it's own. It is the sound of my heart strings being strung through phantasms of both past and present.

I do not escape the dance with dry eyes or UN-frayed nerves, not even a whole soul is left within me.
I pick up the pieces of tattered heart and run to find a cool dark place. A soft place. An escape even if it's only a temporary one from this madness... the swirl.