There are days I am certain the sad will get me:

When the morning mist feels like cloying embrace
Instead of awesome softening

When blurred margins feel like bleary eyes
Instead of relief from reality’s jagged edge

When even the mud has an inordinate gravity
Ready to pull me under at the slightest misstep

I know you are here
I know you are with me
But the swamp is in my soul

If I go under
Do not let me take you down with me