Monotone

Monotone Apr 2019

You.

The struggle to breathe has become too much.
Just yesterday I had a dream and almost couldn't get up.
Lost in an irate sea, slowly sinking to the bottom
A dark figure watches as I lose the air that fills my lungs.
Hands outstretched toward the surface.
No, not the surface.
Toward you.
You, my very sustenance.
The water I drink, the air I breathe
and without it, I shall drown.
and with too much, I shall also drown.
And so, I must keep you at an arms length.
Never truly embracing you,
yet never truly dismissing you.
Awaking with a start.
A pressure on my chest.
I hadn't been breathing.
Even in my sleep, I am unsafe.

Monotone Apr 2019

I had a dream, and

Were it not for the sound of your voice,
I would have succumbed to the bewildering sea.

Monotone Apr 2019

The Local Library

A fist fight, a sword fight, a battle to the death...
Certainly not what one might expect
From a place filled to the top with letters and words.

Look underneath the sea of books,
deep down to the farthest depth.
You'll find that these battles may not be so absurd.

Beyond the sign and the loud hushes
is a world of its own,
and you can be transported through the words.

Free of charge!
All it takes...
is the will to read and create your own imaginary place.

A fist fight, a sword fight, a battle to the death...
what will you choose to begin your journey with?

Monotone Mar 2019

Obliterated

He took everything.
Her heart, her soul, her passion,
And he mercilessly obliterated it.

Monotone Mar 2019

Faucet Flood

My words are like a faucet.
The moment the handle turns,
they spill and spill,
just the right amount,
until I turn it off.

And when the faucet breaks,
they spill and spill,
filling the room up
to the very tip top,
leaving chaos in their wake.

A flood of words
that seem to ruin
everything they touch.

This faucet is broken.
It cannot be fixed.

This flood of words
will only ever
inspire hate.

Monotone Mar 2019

Tug-of-War

As one side is tugged left,
the other is tugged right,
and soon enough,
something once so precious,
so dear to me,
is ripped in half;
stuffing bursting from the seams.

Monotone Mar 2019

Mr. Puppeteer.

Once again, there you are.
Poking your head around the corner,
watching every move I make,
and using me as yet another experiment.
You pull the strings
in this wild, complex relationship,
and I cannot help but to wander
what would happen
were I to cut them.
Would I stand tall and alone,
no strings needed?
Or would I fall,
crumpling to the earth,
shattering my chances at life?
One day, Mr. Puppeteer,
I shall find the answer,
and your puppet will be puppet no more.