Oh my,
I have reached this pathetic state of enlightenment
Which drains me of all delight.
Its like a middle ground
And its flat and seemingly eternal
Like the stretch of the milky-way
And I sit and I wait,
As though a train may turn up,
Out of the blue,
And carry me far away,
To nowhere special.
Oh my,
I shiver and shudder
Through laughter which fills me up and is all consuming,
i am crying, sobbing
And no one moves
Because I am far too happy and far too sad
For a name to be given to my state of sanity.
Oh my,
I am so fixated on outdoing myself
That i am winning and losing my own race
And the competitiveness will over run
And I collapse to the ground and gasp to fill up my body, my soul, my lungs.
Oh my,
i am so plagued by scars
That the ink splattered on my palms
Is a part of me,
And should trail down to the insides of my wrists and work its way into a blood stream
Of fluorescent sunsets and sleepless nights.
Oh my,
It is hysterically easy to forget that beauty is a man made fabrication
When the petals scatter the floor and clouds collide across the sky,
When I can dream in technicolour
And black and white feel like memories.
Oh my,
I juxtapose myself with such an enormity of emotions within such a restrictive circumference around my over thinking mind.
-by holly boyd
YOU ARE READING
Words We Cannot Speak
PoetryPoems; Woe and hope, love and despair Poems mend us, they repair. Broken souls mixed with broken minds, Poems teach us what it is to be alive. They offer thoughts to inspire. They give us hope to aspire, They answer unanswerable questions They offer...
