I feel my fingertips go numb,
From clenching this fist to break the silence.
( I want to beat this selfishness
sickness off my skin)
I open my mouth to speak,
But the sound is gone.
I was screaming my heart out,
Now even for a whisper
I may still be to weak.
( My hearts' so yellow, and jealous, and perforated with pain.)
I feel like I could seize...
I'm not gunna jump, not gunna swing,
Not gunna bleed.
I have to walk through the motions,
To put myself at ease.
I promise myself I'm not gunna cry anymore.
( It beats so fast it looks like it's still, or maybe it's stopped and drives by my will.)
I look off the edge of the world,
And feel like letting go.
But I hold on with a choke-hold.
I will keep this control.
( Everything about it is black, and is bitter, a blight on your soul.)
I hear your voice but
The words make no sense.
It sounds like a train wreck
On the Fourth of July.
My head can't take this.
( She's twisting you, watching
you writhe, all the while a smile.)
YOU ARE READING
Blank Spaces
PoetryAn emotive journey through the empty places we visit but never want to see. The pain, the heartbreak, trying to see hope in places there may be none. And the secrets, and yes there are always secrets. Can you see them in this dark empty space? So it...
