You’re not talking,
But your silence is loud.
Spreading, expanding,
Drowning all other sound.
You’re not talking,
So, I fill the void,
With a one woman dialogue,
Hoping to devoid,
Of you,
Without losing too much,
Of me,
When I have just a few,
Left of me to clutch.

I want to not be my current self.
I want to be someone else, someone else.
I'm under the mountain, still and again.
I'm under the mountain, a mountain of pain.
And the mountain is heavy, more than before.
I'm unmovable, unbreathable, unhopeable and more.
I'm paralysed, just can't seem to break free.
From under the mountain of guilt, pain and trees.
Trees with leaves of shame and regret.
With a bark of melancholy, I'm sleeping to forget.
I'm sleeping to forget that I am myself.
And in my sleep, I'm someone else, someone else.

The rope is long,
I tie a knot.
I wrap it round,
I'm getting fraught.
My feet unstable,
A dizzy head.
Don’t like it here,
I pull a thread.
A lonesome strand,
Is now all tangled.
I pull the rest,
The rope gets frazzled.
I look around,
No one is near.
I get off,
I leave the pier.
A quick glance back,
The waters foam.
The boat is drifting,
I'm going home.

Stirring the brew,
Breathing the fog,
Cooking tomorrow,
With a great deal of slog.
Boiling and poaching
A raw, shellless existence.
Percolating my prospects,
With erratic persistence.

Picture one,
Smile.
Picture two,
Dimple.
Picture three,
Twinkle.
Picture four,
Shy.
Picture five,
Coy.
Picture six,
Flirty.
Picture ten,
Words.
Fifteen,
Walking.
Twenty one,
Lips.
Thirty three,
Hand.
Picture forty,
Nearly.
Forty two,
Ah.

Morning,
Almost,
A night's shadow is still here.
Refusing to leave,
Holding on,
Clinging to air.
And the morning can not start,
Eyes are still shut.
Until the shadow lets go,
Morning will not show,
Us, today,
Nor one ray,
Of sun will we know.

I’m solo, carrying my own, slightly off, tune.
No vivace, no allegro, not even andante.
Just a bitter adagio elegy, fading out inside me.

My endometrium is worthy,
To embed my future.
Just two things left now,
Embrace my past
And untangle my present.
If only I knew how.

Time I don't have.
I have.
Time I don't want.
I want.
Time I don't miss.
I miss.
Time I don't care.
I care.
Time I don't lose.
I lose.
Time I don't use.
I don't use.
Don't use.

I’m repeating myself,
Repeating myself. Once, twice, thrice.
Grinding time to dust,
From dusk,
Till dawn.
Grinding, pestling, battering,
My life,
As I’m pressing on.
I’m running an endless marathon.

The end of the world,
Just there.
Past the trees,
Beyond the where.
The brink of all,
A hop, jump and skip.
White nothingness,
A long endless strip.
Mere three steps,
Me, bleak strides, a rime.
The edge of being,
The brim of time.
The end of the world,
Just there.
And I am here,
So near to dare.

Cracked, parched, bare,
I am lying on the ground.
My skin,
Cracked, parched, bare,
Crumbling, skinny dust,
Depressing the air.
My blood trickling out,
Hydrating the flakes.
Red tulips will grow,
Between my dusty bones.

In a deep deep well,
Where I dwell,
I can smell,
All the stale, stale,
Souls.
And I hear,
Bells are near,
And it's clear,
Death is here,
In the walls.
Now I know,
Fear will grow,
Hearts will slow,
Life will flow,
Down the halls.
Then last,
Low the mast,
Trumpet blast,
Life has past.

In a deep deep well,
Where I dwell, dwell, dwell,
I can smell, smell, smell,
All the stale, stale, stale,
Souls.
And I hear, hear, hear,
Bells are near, near, near,
And it's clear, clear, clear,
Death is here, here, here,
In the walls.
Then I know, know, know,
Fear will grow, grow, grow,
Hearts will slow, slow, slow,
Life will flow, flow, flow,
Down the halls.
And at last, last, last,
Low the mast, mast, mast,
Trumpet blast, blast, blast,
Life has past, past, past,
To the falls.

Wall one for my pictures.
Wall two for my words.
Wall three for my structure.
Wall four for my hoards.
Wall one for my times.
Wall two for my space.
Wall three for my dimes.
Wall four for my pace.
Wall one is falling.
Wall two coming loose.
Wall three is squalling.
Wall four for my noose.

Wall one for my pictures.
Wall two for my words.
Wall three for my structure.
Wall four for my hoards.
Wall one for my times.
Wall two for my space.
Wall three for my dimes.
Wall four for my pace.
Wall one is falling.
Wall two coming loose.
Wall three is squalling.
Wall four for my noose.

Talking,
The walls have no ears.
Smiling, winking, flirting, kicking
Only my silhouette peers.
Screaming,
No heart to shed no tears.
So, talking to myself,
I have been for years.

No eat,
No wholesome,
No quench,
No sip.
No night,
No day,
No stir,
No sleep.
No green,
No rainbow,
No flower,
No trees.
No sweet,
No lovely,
No warm,
No breeze.
No home,
No rest,
No place,
No port.
No shield,
No cover,
No guard,
No fort.
No soft,
No ease.
No air,
No space.
No kids,
No line,
No kind,
No race.

Dream,
Where thoughts are loud,
And cries are silent.
Reality is warped and delusion real.
Where truth is false and lie is honest.
Where I keep all I ever promised,
To me.

A stone dropped,
Into the well,
Into the well,
Well,
Well.
Tapping the walls,
On its way.
Way,
Way,
Way.
The echo coiled to the top,
Chasing the stone, soon I drop.
No echo now,
A flop,
A plop,
Then stop.

Left leg red,
I wriggle.
Right hand blue,
He sprouts one more.
Left hand green,
I contort.
Right leg yellow,
He has four.
Right hand green,
I squirm.
Left leg blue,
His is two meters long.
Left hand yellow,
I fall down.
Playing twister with my depression,
There goes the gong.
I always lose, he always wins,
He cheats and I play along.

My music plays with no notes.
My story told with no words.
My poem recites with no rhyme.
My bell rings with no chime.
My drum beats without blare.
My wind whistles without air.
My candle burns without flame.
My life passes without name.

Up, up rising,
Hindering my air.
Flooding my eyes,
Extinguishing my flare.
Sailine beads, dripping out,
Brimful of pain,
Of anger and hate,
Resentment, regret and disdain.
I thought that I was over her,
I was wrong.