Today is a poetry day,
She told herself.
People were dying,
Hopeless babies were being born,
And she was bleeding.
Yet there was a
Momentary
Calm
Inside the ever-raging storm.
Eyes gazing lovingly at
A wall,
She smiled and bowed her thanks
To quiet voices that
Sounded like
They had dimpled cheeks
And glory-glazed eyes
As they approved her thoughts.
She liked to think of
Synaesthesia as she typed
Away the
Colours
Of the words
That swam around in their
Polluted glass tank.
Today felt like a poetry day,
She said out loud.
Everything was uneven,
Someone somewhere was drowning to sleep,
And she was oh so mentally ill.
Yet there was
A tinge of
Comfort
In the darkness.
Her body was glowing
With toxicity,
And she was
Shaking from the
Cold
She couldn’t feel,
As soundless lullabies
Played in her mind and
Notes
She couldn’t read
Danced before her eyes.
She was crazy,
Everything was always a maybe,
Tomorrow was nowhere,
But, Ah…
Today
Today was poetry.