Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
ansiwiz-uns-fralelotPoems
A shot. Better yet, several — well-aimed and carefully chosen to hit me when I least expect it. I don’t know how many. They come from every which where and strike me dumb. My reaction time is pitiful. First the gradual realisation that I am indeed injured, Then the quick spiral, the panic, the *****  —                   the blood never ceases to shock me — and twitching legs, light dimming, eyes robbed of character, the gates shut. I am but ruins, an anaphora an empty, broken-down bookcase. Half an eternity later, I am returned. I always am; To the same battlefield, the same blood spattered wall, the same cruel game where I am little more than a target. Or perhaps I am the idiot who runs Oblivious Into the crossfire — Who knows? Pain is the only certainty.
0
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 6:12 PM UTC
Life Cycle
A shot. Better yet, several — well-aimed and carefully chosen to hit me when I least expect it. I don’t know how many. They come from every which where and strike me dumb. My reaction time is pitiful. First the gradual realisation that I am indeed injured, Then the quick spiral, the panic, the *****  —                   the blood never ceases to shock me — and twitching legs, light dimming, eyes robbed of character, the gates shut. I am but ruins, an anaphora an empty, broken-down bookcase. Half an eternity later, I am returned. I always am; To the same battlefield, the same blood spattered wall, the same cruel game where I am little more than a target. Or perhaps I am the idiot who runs Oblivious Into the crossfire — Who knows? Pain is the only certainty.
#depression#anxiety
Written by
ansiwiz-uns-fralelot
25/M/)
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 6:12 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem