Twists of guilt
Knotting my stomach
Consisting of nothing,
Yet of something--
On the tip of my tongue,
Somewhere I've gone wrong
I just can't seem to remember
Somewhere in the Shiver
Of my mental december
And i feel lost,
And yet afraid
That I am where I am
Supposed to be
And haven't a clue
Of my place.
There is no reason,
No predictability,
In my actions--
I shock even myself
And quite everything
Seems so wrong...
Something like fear;
The seed sprung
Viciously apart
To form splintering
Branches of roots,
Spreading in a pattern
like the veins
Of a living creature,
Like racing, eager cracks
'Cross a frozen lake.
And this seed
Grows within me,
Even as I deny its existence,
Deny the moments of terror
Deny the empty, confused panic
That means nothing,
NOTHING.
And I deny myself.
Is there a name
For this enemy of mine?
Can I somehow call out
To it, beg
And plead
On my sore, bleeding knees
For it to leave me far alone?
But here.
Here.
Is a thought.
The creature that stalks me in the night,
Who drags me to the silent fight
Is so much a part of me,
Should i,
Can i,
Plead with myself?
To release this beast
Who's made its feast
Upon my heart?
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Collection 1.0
Poetrya collection of words attempting to capture just a bit of light, a touch of dark, and much of the Confused in between
