Poetry Unraveled

Perpetual Unrest

Shallow vocal projections riddled with unrest.
To their attachments I attempt to detest.
Atmosphere full of agony and rot, they plague my senses.
For the last breath laced memories they have never forgot.
Latching themselves on like a backpack, they wrap me in ice.
Their presence can be evil.
Their presence can be nice.
The diversity of raw emotion that breeds with the element of air and the multiple sources of energy allows them to manifest.
They invade my being.
They invade my home.
No matter how much I try, I will never truly be left alone.
My strength is my weakness.
They deceive me and use me.
Through my outreach they find vulgar disdain.
Wherever I go.
Regardless of if I object.
They find me.
The only light that peers into the darkness is hope that my father's ghost will rescue me.
That he will fight off the overwhelming otherworldly presence to relinquish me of my suffocated state.
As oxygen flows back to my brain and the black bog of spirits slink back through a portal to wherever they came from, I breathe.
Yet, I come to terms with the idea that I will never truly be free.
I will always find my way back to the unfinished souls and they will seek me out.
Like them, I am too in a perpetual state of unrest.