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sea hum May 2020
An aimless stream longing for a core
travelling through the narrow streets of my head
I watch the outline of it unable to fixate on what it's seeking
I ask it gently
what is it you yearn for?
a helpless stretch of silence meets my anticipating ears
recognition sets it
you yearn for patience and gradual process
and I shall wait until you pick ripe words and consume them
in your gnawing stomach they will meet their soul sisters
they will coalesce and cure your silence
something i wrote when i wasn't too kind on myself, impatience is detrimental to self-healing. finding the right language for what one is feeling is a journey all of its own
sea hum Mar 2017
I want to crawl out of my skin and wander about for a while.
Until I forget I had a body.
Until I am naught but a misguided ghost that's lost its way back home.
Though home is merely a word now,
for I can't find it, not even while I'm lifelessly lying in my bed.
I am torn apart,
I am pulled at by everything and nothing wants me.
Heavy eyes and tired heart.
When will this crushing weight resting upon my chest depart?
It's overstayed its welcome.
All I want is to be behind the lines again.
I'm putting blindfolds over my eyes because they see the cold truth,
because my heart has taken over,
and my mind is weary and exhausted .
I guess I hadn't known just how weak I truly am.
Restless nights is what this brings.
Empty talks are what's erupting.
Should I go on with this pain,
Or quit you just to sink into deeper pain?
Or should I just quit?
My pillow was my tear drops' audience tonight,
though I was given no standing ovation.
All I heard was "I told you so".
I'm hoping the sun stays dormant,
for I don't want to face tomorrow.

— The End —