Ubiquitous.

Written 7/4/2006.

Ubiquitous.

There is a rhythm in his step
A method to his madness
His face, furrowed in deepest thought
His hand moves to his forehead
Pushes his glasses higher on his nose
Runs his hand through his short hair
Taps his finger on the keyboard
Lost in concentration

There is no rhythm in her step
But surely there is a method to her madness?
Her face, never stuck on one expression
Worry lines already forming on her brow
She stares off into space
Chews on her lip
Tapping a pen on her head
Lost in transition

Depression consumes them both
Times are rough
Arguments frequent
Personalities clash
Dependency grows
Misunderstandings run rampant
Lack of trust
Distanced lovers

Confusion sets in, anxiety stands firm
Depression deepens
Medications fail her
Mental health fails her
Why does she feel alone in this?
Is this the end?
Should she commit now,
Or waste away for lack of trying?

Her phone calls become too frequent
Her anxiety causes arguments
She becomes self-conscious
Does she really cause all these problems?
Rapid weight loss
Self-doubting, self-loathing
Be there for her
Is she asking too much?

She's lost in this world
And she feels quite alone
She doesn't want your pity
She wants you to understand
She doesn't want to push you away
Don't think she's crazy
Because she might start to believe you
She worries too much

She wants to get better
She wants to believe that things are fine
It's hard for her
She doesn't know what to do
Or how to go about doing it
She's lost in this world
And right now
She's alone