I am tired.
my thoughts
drift
downward
like
leaves
on
an
autumn
day
departing
a tree's
sustenance
eventually
landing on a still black pond
deep and lightless but clean.
Clinical.
and
so the
leaf
sinks
to the mud encrusted bottom
that only I can penetrate alone.
A place where dark emotion is logic
and logic is simply gone, wrong, contrived.
No breathing, no solving, every semblance of
normality and happiness simply rotting while
I try to contemplate which of me is truly me.
Am I slowly gasping, forgetting, expiring,
or am I glowing, forgiving, exhilarating?
Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 5:32 PM UTC
I am tired.
my thoughts
drift
downward
like
leaves
on
an
autumn
day
departing
a tree's
sustenance
eventually
landing on a still black pond
deep and lightless but clean.
Clinical.
and
so the
leaf
sinks
to the mud encrusted bottom
that only I can penetrate alone.
A place where dark emotion is logic
and logic is simply gone, wrong, contrived.
No breathing, no solving, every semblance of
normality and happiness simply rotting while
I try to contemplate which of me is truly me.
Am I slowly gasping, forgetting, expiring,
or am I glowing, forgiving, exhilarating?
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