Trigger Warning: I write a lot of depressing, suicidal stuff. If you are affected by it, please do not read these poems. If you want to know what poems are not triggering, send me a message and I'll tell you.
Buckle up, now: we're going on one heck of a ride.
***
In the middle of a street I've never seen
With the stilted gaze of curiosity,
Cold eyes watch from the shallow pools
That collect on the pavements.
They consider my every step and tread
With unspoken, unheard judgement.
Their pupils are dark and deep
With unspoken, unheard knowledge.
Shivers crawl along my skin,
But I trudge on carefully -
Every untidy movement could cause
An untimely end I wish to avoid.
In the silence it is easy to pretend
That there is no one else there but me.
But if I glance around quick enough,
I may just see the shadows flit away.
The windows of the slouching buildings
Are barren of any living people.
I can feel them watch my passing
With every icy breath we take.
The glassy rays of the setting sun
Lay lightly upon the trashcans,
Turning the dull metal into something
That is almost worth admiration.
The eyes are still watching me pass by.
Their stares sit upon my shoulder,
But I cannot shrug it off -
There is no chance of escaping them.
I've been walking this unknown street
For most of my life. And I cannot
Turn back again - for if I do,
There's no knowing what'll happen.
YOU ARE READING
the mind's recesses
Poesíawords that fell out of inky fingers, and stained the paper that lay on wooden tables.
