The mind will crawl
into a
a little dark alley way,
green broken bottles and smashed liquor
a state of absolute demise,
a state of absolute misery
The pale street lamps flicker on and off
The buzz will never really stop
The buzz will always be there
You see,
This factory is out of order,
The conveyor belts black as sticky tar,
simply, refuse to work
and like a state entrenched with anarchy,
a mind like a chaotic orchestra,
or a vessel filled with dissonance.
It runs,
My choir sings,
soft hymns of distress.
These parts and clogs simply,
do not fit and work together.
The dancers will waltz with jagged motions,
confined in concrete walls.
In another universe, another day,
I pray solemnly,
that the workers in this worn out factory,
the zombies that pile up on the ground floor,
the dancers that sickle their feet,
and the parts that truly
belong to me,
will one day,
waltz and harmonise
beautifully together,
in unison.
YOU ARE READING
SHITTY LOVE SONNETS / flashpoetry
PoetryIt was only in the chaos, I was able to cultivate my wings and alas, take flight. ------------------------ flash, emotive poetry - words of mine, to all the boys I've loved before, but also to myself. started : summer 2019
