Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2017
What am I between these driving
delusions of all my anxieties, aside?
When every moment is a revolt against
suicide and my steadying decline
and my internal monologue dissolved
into reminding myself why.
Who am I but ceaselessly unsure
of the lens of my own myopic, miserable mind?
Between the shadows stirring
in the corners of these drying eyes
and the alarming cry for predators nearby,
these countless confines multiplying wildly.
How often I find I am fighting my brain every second, all the time,
my own excessive efforts led awry
as my uncertainties undermine.
But now all I know is I am finally
freeing myself from being so spine numbingly paralyzed,
now that I've realized I lie
underneath somewhere within
the way of still waking up
from this frozen comatose demise.
Andrew Crawford
Written by
Andrew Crawford  Cincinnati, Ohio
(Cincinnati, Ohio)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems