What is this hold upon me?
It constricts and stifles every thought that appears,
with a chloroform rag drenched in discontent
Mild perfectionism, if such a thing, and procrastination leave me
frequently wondering where the time went
The questions I ask myself repeatedly
never receive answers with credibility
A rhythm with no rhyme; a melody in offset time
A misty meaning behind glossy eyes
that I’ve tied together with endless lines
of verbose attempts to explain my mind
No feeling is palpable, no imagery fabricated
Only an idea of what could be,
of what I cannot grasp,
and what I cannot convey
So I’m left with this clouded mind
jostled by ambivalence
(this word ceases to elude me)
on a maladjusted playground,
teetering and tottering on the fine edge
of sanity in this bleak reality
Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 12:17 PM UTC
What is this hold upon me?
It constricts and stifles every thought that appears,
with a chloroform rag drenched in discontent
Mild perfectionism, if such a thing, and procrastination leave me
frequently wondering where the time went
The questions I ask myself repeatedly
never receive answers with credibility
A rhythm with no rhyme; a melody in offset time
A misty meaning behind glossy eyes
that I’ve tied together with endless lines
of verbose attempts to explain my mind
No feeling is palpable, no imagery fabricated
Only an idea of what could be,
of what I cannot grasp,
and what I cannot convey
So I’m left with this clouded mind
jostled by ambivalence
(this word ceases to elude me)
on a maladjusted playground,
teetering and tottering on the fine edge
of sanity in this bleak reality
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