#innerturmoil
It starts with...
A pounding
In your head,
A tiredness
Behind your eyes,
A forlorn agitation,
A shortening fuse,
A twitching
Of your jaw,
A deep, dreadful sigh,
The stress is mounting
Oh my! Oh my!
Jan 19
Jan 19, 2026 at 7:07 AM UTC
Circle CirCle
In
Circle circle
(At the centre Centre
The Centre Centre )
No at the FoCus
At FoCus
focus focus
.......
Or at the fence
Yes maybe
The fence
The fence
Fence maybe at it
No at the corner
Yes Corner -
The corner
The corner ?
The Corner
Where ?
.....
Can't find
Can't find
Can't find
Can't find
Can't find
Can't find
Where is it ?
Can't find
Can't find
Can't find
Can't find
Can't find
Can't find
Maybe
In
Circle CirCle
And
Circle CirCle
Yes where is it
Where is he
Where is me
Where am I
Why I am here
Why why
Why
At the centre
Why am In a ..
Jun 20, 2025
Jun 20, 2025 at 5:17 AM UTC
It grabbed me again, that feeling.
bare neck
it dug its claws.
Deeper and deeper,
it consumes.
Inside me,
A tunnel filled with cars
ramming into each other
one after another,
one after another
they hit,
they break,
Producing bangs
that flood my body.
Clawing at my own skin
to remove them,
“I just want them out” I say
but my body doesn’t listen.
My mind ignores me.
And it just builds.
It grabbed me last year, that feeling.
A stress,
A draining anxiousness
******* nutrients from my roots.
Holding back the words I needed
to get me out
to let me grow
from the rooms
that confined my mind.
Aching pains
that stretched me
between all these worlds,
“Am I good enough?”
“Will I disappoint?”
“Why will I never be good enough”—
a thought that lingers.
“Why do I like nothing about myself”
This feeling,
This nagging demon,
This tunnel of cars
that won’t listen
to the stop
that I shout,
this draining anxiousness.
Please—
Let me go.
Jun 17, 2025
Jun 17, 2025 at 4:20 PM UTC
There is a mad place inside some certain
Cold lane where windows creak with
Each gentle whisper.
Surely some revelation is at hand,
Surely someone is to come.
But this mad place, oh this mad place.
It beats and it beats, night and day
And doesn’t stop to sit to mourn or
Feel, this mad place, oh but
Surely some revelation is at hand,
Surely one might someday let it out.
In times of despair, one thinks of
Old age, one thinks of holding hands
And one thinks of committing a sin,
But this mad place, it never stops
To dream, da dum, da dum, indeed,
It beats and it beats!
One day, maybe, it will find a way
To figure it out, one day, or perhaps,
I shall grow a wing, or least
find a way to live with it,
But seldom, will it stop?
When will it stop? When
Will it make sense to stop?
Surely there must be something,
Some shade under a tree
Or some fine stone to sit on.
Oh but this mad place,
this mad place, this restless bird,
When would it drop the shiny pebble from its hands?
Yes, there are times when it lets out a sigh,
Mostly out of desperation. But
When the night passes, it makes up lies
It doesn’t look back to see what it said.
Does it even means what it says?
Does it even bother to say what it means?
This mad place, this uncaged cage,
What does it seem to wait for?
Who is to come? What is to come?
This mad place, this mad place,
When the words fly like out of season
Birds, when it squeaks like winter winds,
Maybe it will think to stop, or ask,
Surely someone is to come.
Surely some revelation is at hand!
Mar 22, 2025
Mar 22, 2025 at 6:14 AM UTC
prone to narcolepsy;
a second thought, like -
a can of pepsi.
sold my peace for
a moment’s notice;
for the panic that utters -
‘you better not blow this!’
i sulk, i cry, i moan… it rains -
the clouds pull closer to
the gravity of my pain;
the birds find shelter at
the neighbour’s windowpane -
they leave me to dry in a room -
terrified, and insane.
i can feel the bed
warming up to my shape;
there’s a stain on the pillow
that reeks of sour grapes -
i try to rub it off,
but give in to my human make:
i curse the neighbour’s birds -
through a ****
on the moss-green drapes.
i hope it’s worth it:
all the trials, and the errors.
i long for a night,
devoid of terror -
so i may sing for a while,
with nothing to lose;
‘to be, or not to be’ -
left to me - to choose.
Dec 20, 2024
Dec 20, 2024 at 12:34 AM UTC
Rage bellowing in her belly
A bad memory waiting to be spit out
Slowly consuming her, turning her inside out
Solar flares signalling extinction
A decision so final, a small flame setting ablaze the world
She wields the fiery embers of death
Commanding their path, their journey to end
Each life now an echo of a dream she shed
Breathing in ashes of those remaining
Her visage in stark contrast, betraying her true feelings
Hands which once breathed life into visions,
Now crumble the earth she stands on
Rage bellowing in her belly
A burning ember
Once lit, cannot be fused
Her temper reaching a fever pitch
The sky darkens, reflecting her despair
With every flicker, the world teeters on the edge
Now she stands, the architect of her destruction
Oct 18, 2024
Oct 18, 2024 at 2:42 PM UTC
Slowly, my eyes filled with water, each drop heavy with the weight of unspoken sorrow, echoing the silent ache within.
The world around me blurred, a cruel reflection of the disarray within my heart.
As the tears fell, they seemed to carry with them fragments of shattered dreams and lost hopes, painting a bleak landscape of desolation.
Jun 1, 2024
Jun 1, 2024 at 12:14 PM UTC
My body goes to such lengths
to part the waters and reveal
the war I fight against myself
Cruel words and battle scars collect
storing themselves in muscles
weary from strain
The typhoon building in my heart
has rose to a crescendo
pummeling against my walls
again
again
again
Suddenly, I long for solace
for blood to spill
and words to form
But whatever is within
locks itself away in my throat
lingering like a afterthought
Beaten and preyed upon
by it's own command
my body decays as my
mind runs
rampant.
-Esther L. Krenzin-
-Roguesong-
Feb 16, 2019
Feb 16, 2019 at 8:35 AM UTC
Are you against me?
Answers are not always what is heard
I see
You are a mess of words,
Do you hear me?
Tied together with a longing
Strong enough to bend steel
Holding onto a belief that
Someday might not be as dark as today
Hold on, my dear
Even if the whispers are getting louder
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 12:51 PM UTC
I felt the heat of the body
I felt my suffering in my arms.
I did not want to continue lying
Knowing the truth.
The rain falls like teardrops
Wanting to wash me of my despair.
I look for a container to keep
All the dew and mist that I still lack.
The rain falls trying to make me drown
Of emotions overflowing,
Crawling along the bottom of the sea
Suffocating me with my depression.
Taking my eyes off the coral.
The brook embraces me closely
Taking me to the abyss of the sea.
And like the light, I will soon forget you.
The rain will take me from this cruel world
But escape from me between my fingers.
Kisses in the form of drops saying goodbye
Reminding me that pieces of me are in the stream.
In the darkness, I saw a color shining
Far from me, on the surface of the sea.
But when I went to reach for it
It shattered into fragments of crystal.
Thousands of precious stones crashed in the sea
Developing with no owner and I its cruel women.
I sinking against the pressure
Of sins and virtues of past lives.
Memories that break and change shape
They are the only things that connect me to this place.
© Sofia Villagrana 2018
Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 3:05 PM UTC
.
'*pon your voyages through my mind
mingling with memories cruel and kind,
amongst the shattered dreams that do lay
'neath darkened clouds so distant away.
Amidst the chaos of random thoughts
strands of discord forged and sought,
chasing nightmares you must flee
the ugliness deep inside of me.
Be you close or be you far,
Please think of Me,
wherever you are.*
© Pagan Paul (20/03/18)
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 4:57 PM UTC
The ginger boy just could not touch.
For long
he'd been away.
He wasn't sure if to return.
Or if stay
in far display
.
It hurt him much that he did dine
to ignore
such place
where time
and space
where people meet and spirits lift
and only two can sail the drift,
the tide of
friendship.
It made no sense his
versed up mess
but he could not
think
of anything best
he could not put
his soul to rest
even if there was no test
even though the patience lives
even if the doubting gives
even if he cannot rhyme
every sentence
every line
all he wants to do is give up his apology.
To remind that all was genuine
to ensure that love divine
the ginger did not **** things up
just was turned
against
by pain and time
they took away his freedom
imprisoned him in his own mind
so when he fell to sorrow
and to longing
for the old times
for his good friend
for the new words
hesitation reigned
and won
All the moments he did try
wishing from his lips to say
lingering his fingers over keys
just type it-- "hey"
what consumed him was this
pain
dramatic and possibly in vain
wanting not to burden bare
a friend so far
and out of hair
a friend unaware.
So he gifted his apology.
And his Promise to return.
His word was only certainty
but when ? no-one could learn.
He hoped to not attain bad feelings.
He hoped to not regret.
But whatever happens, happens
There is hope for this boy yet.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 7:39 PM UTC