When I rub my eyes with a multitude of feelings
Frustration
Excitement
Anger
Sadness
I grit my teeth
     As my mind grows fuller and blanker by the second
Everything pours out
     But nothing is felt or heard...or seen
It's there.....It's always there.

Always being backed into a corner by yourself
Always stopping yourself
For what reason?
Am I over thinking?
I see you with others
It makes me feel confined
Confined into accepting the love you give me
For you won't let me fight
So you leave me confined

To sense

Diverse coming together
Falling in to piece
Clashing so wonderfully
Explosions of everything
This is it

So weightless
Drifting high way above the clouds
So breathless
Falling slowly far away from the clouds
So silent
Leaving the living slowly
So nothing.

Why do people expect poetry to make sense
When poetry is made up of emotion.

Liquid
Floating numbness
Whispers and rich baritones of your voice that I so rarely hear
Liquid
Floating pain
Shrieks and screams of your voice that I so rarely forget
Liquid
Sinking thoughts
Pleas for help and final breaths that encompass me
Liquid.