My thoughts are crabbed and sallow,
My tears like vinegar,
Or the bitter blinking yellow
Of an acetic star.

Tonight the caustic wind, love,
Gossips late and soon,
And I wear the wry-faced pucker of
The sour lemon moon.

While like an early summer plum,
Puny, green, and ****,
Droops upon its wizened stem
My lean, unripened heart.

My thoughts drift slow and lazy
through the valleys of my mind,
reaching out for answers,
searching for something I left behind.

My memories were here once before
with darkness, screams and pain,
the intense fire of creative spirit
dampened to pulp by a wicked brain.

So where did I leave myself
when I escaped in to my head?
I've deconstructed the mental walls
to discover the places I had fled.

Between. Betwixt. Bewitched. Be still,
a balm to soothe this anxious seer.
My thoughts drift slow and lazy
through the valleys of my fears.


© Pagan Paul (20/05/17)

I don't think I'm in love with her face or her toned body..
I think I'm in love the way she stares into the perpetual crystal blue sky..
I'm in love when she try to define this absurd world ..
I'm in love the way she sprint into the crowd of small elderly gentleman to replenish the loneliness..
I'm in love when she tries to conceal the soreness of her soul with gentle smile ..
I'm in love the way she express her emotions in riddle..
I'm in love when she curiously observe the eternal nature...
I'm in love the way she talks passionately about her goals with her bright unblinking eyes...
I'm in love the way she rest her head on my shoulder when she get tangled up in the rollercoaster of emotions...
I'm in love when she close her eyes while she listens to the sounds of the wild sea waves...