11/3/18
there's a song that I can
hear hidden under layers
of tantalizing snow
I can hear it and it's like a
string to my stone arms
to my stone legs
it's a blush among bare trees
a roar amidst transit
a pond among a field of frozen dew
I think I want to go but
my heavy limbs are still
I feel a stir within my
chest but my skin cannot feel
I hear the song louder now
a saving grace among skyscrapers
bending around me, enfolding
my small car in shadows
they don't make much sense
but there's not much else I have
no no when your body doesn't move
but your mind is somewhere far away
it's hard to speak of privilege and
though I know it abounds around me
abounds inside of me
my dead limbs murmur otherwise
I lay on the floor of my room
seeing much spin above my body
a sun a moon a million stars
I see them spinning in a
dance to the song that I hear
look at them look at me
I'm a dead weight upon a
sinking barge and water
fills my lungs but still
I can't feel
still I don't feel
still I don't move
still I don't matter
but I see distant lands through
glazed eyes and I hear
the drums of their world
playing and pounding
it finally becomes too loud
but I can't move my
hands to cover my ears
so still I lay
still I hear
still I'm stuck in place
YOU ARE READING
Hello, November
PoetryThis is a collection of my writings from November 2018. It's a continuation of "Poetry" and "Poetry and Writes", but will be much shorter. I'll try to write something each day of the month and post as I go--even if what I've written sucks. Who care...
