I wish to be buried forever into the twilight In the light before dawn and and dusk Dark, apocalyptic, shadowy world Barely more light than a candle, now The sun has been snuffed, The moon remains groggy under the horizon Still deep under covers, in her dreams Awaiting a sun to come and burn them away.
To remain ever on this moment, here, now, Feet settling on the moss One with the earth, then separate Gravity and inertia back together again To the distant mirth of youthful joy I ponder my old age I am left to empty boxes, and empty spheres.
Now, who? Who? Who is there? Whom can I fight? What is it here for me to conquer To ensure the continuity of this moment? None, and time shakes her head As she glides past suffocating me The mushrooms are left to rot I reluctantly turn back to the light To day by day, I return to life.
Life we keep going, Even when you’re gone. The wind, still blowing. The sun still shining in the dawn. The thunder and fire That shook your soul. The endless tire that Took its toll. You ripped away the mold And sold your bruised truths. Time ensues, Continues.
It is the deadly, delicate, overwhelming feeling of being smothered in something i cannot see cannot feel cannot taste or touch or hear but it is there and it brings pain and a strange kind of emptiness
pipes, made of pipes we are (i am) trapped inside flesh and hung over, draped upon, wrapped around brittle rickety crickety cracking bones like empty teeth or the bendy bit of bendy straws trying to pretend like they don't bend
Finding it within myself to exist as i am Is not something that i am entirely sure i can do This time around
(It is not my fault, not mine, never mine, never.
I know this. They keep saying it. Perhaps they're trying to convince themselves, I must be such an inconvenience, after all.)
I am pain all over, clenched teeth and tensed limbs and I am listless empty Tumbling hollow head over weak heels in an ocean of nothing-
And by gods I hope that I wash up on shore with something in my brain besides water because I hope that at the end of this there might be those words those three sweet words that might just say something like-
To Be Continued.
[I do not have a terminal illness; this is character writing in poetry. I just feel I should clarify this as it is not my intention to mislead anyone.]
I see them watching me, All eyes aimed at my life, Everyone trying to see, Waiting for me to trip or stumble. I may fall, I may fail, But no matter what I will pick myself up, I will restart my game, So I can try again. No giving up for me, Surely this you can see? I will always push forward, That’s the only way I know how to be. Life is hard, That’s a fact, A truth for us all. So worry about your own life, Rather than waiting for me to fall.
Just been thinking about all the people who spend their time waiting for me to mess up and are completely ignorant of their own shortcomings