Sick:
In what metaphorical sense,
We will never know.
Sick of the collision of thoughts
In the empty space from here to there.
Sick of the people
And their eyes following,
Waiting for your feet
To be placed in the smallest of miscalculations.
Sick of the existence.
Sick of the void never screaming back.
Sick of being sick.
~J.K.M.
Tired Of Burning (House Fire):
It's never a calm disposition
Not when it comes to the insides of me.
It's never a gentle coolness,
It's a fire that scorches.
Until the shards of the ashes
Of burnt remains that
You happen to be choking on
Have become your home.
It's not the visual representation
Of running water.
Gentle, slow, likeable, calm.
No.
I'm the raging flames of a burning house
And no one likes a house on fire.
~J.K.M.
YOU ARE READING
1. An Implication (Poetry)
PoesíaPoetry for humanity. A collection of thoughts. An array of poetry displayed in raw light. "For what it's worth, not even words can explain the complications in ones head." ~J.K.M.
