A glitch, changing certainty into turmoil. Myriad of thoughts that unhinge doors. The lines of sanity are blurred, Bridges are falling, stranding me. The ice is thinning, And I'm alone, Pretending to skate.
i miss my sanity i thought to myself as i walked past your picture still on my wall I miss reality each of my taste buds, missing the sweet taste of your voice, the faint light of our room and it shining on your lips.
how much easier it would be only to satiate the needs forgetting the foolish notions of something more the drug induced states merely staring into your eyes brings on brings me to the brink of sanity because this tired duet cries to die but i can't bring myself to do it knowing if i cut out your heart they'll be no beat beneath my breast you'll have come with one but you'll be taking two when you take your scalpel to my chest
"Why do you laugh? Do you not see How useless is it? Are you delusional? Or have you gone mad?" You questioned me. I stared, and laughed. I am not blind, and I certainly feel helpless. But, still I laugh, For I have already cried.
In laughter, I find unity With others who laugh too In laughter, there is power Against clowns and idiots With delusions of grandeur As I laugh, I show sanity While exposing stupidity
To laugh is to cope A means of catharsis It is as valid as crying And often, I do both I laugh, because I am unfortunately still human
I miss the sound of water Keening past the hull, I miss the soughing of wind in sail And the dull thrum of the shrouds Like oversized guitar strings Plucked from my heart, By fingers felt Yet never seen,
I miss the heel of the hull as a gust Catches the sails, The feel of the gunwhale Below my buttocks as I hike out, The restored sense of balance As my weight matches The turning moment Of sail over keel,
I miss that simple shared moment Of unity and rightness With a crew who understands, Or sometimes while solo I share that instant with The great good God that made Me and others fit To experience His creation
I miss the water, I miss the wind, I miss the feel of a taut sheet And a tiller in my hands, The surging sense of motion As the shore retreats And the horizon beckons Me forward
I miss all these things and yet Even as I type this verse, At the end of another day, Another week and with another Boatless weekend ahead, Like all good fish heads, In my head and in my heart I am - still - sailing