Astray

Jittering fingers she’s nervous
“what the fuck is happening?”
This is a first! IT SCARED her
of course it did

it was the first time
she experienced such a feeling, a loss, confusion
and even a bit of nausea

the fucking blinking line why isn’t it moving,
why aren’t her fingers dancing on letters?
Have they become weary
or is it that her brain has become dreary?

She wants to scribble and doodle
even paint a mural but why have her ideas abandoned her?
Could it be that her heart is empty?
Could it be that her spirit is slowly fading
into this so called routine
that they glorify so ideally?

what is happening,
her colors have darkened
and her eyes are dim,
lifeless indeed this is horrific

I am sorry but this does seem grim

Her nails are chipping
and her skin is aching
her brain is screaming,
yearning for a meaning

the loud noise in her head pertains to her,
she only hears it but she looks around,
seeking conformity
she wants to see if anyone else,
is listening

Could it be that those injections of “busy”
have sedated her wild spirit?
Could it be sucking her blood
deriving the color within?

Could it be that she’s overdosing on “busy”?
Slowly enjoying the things momentarily
before she’s gone completely

As I was ending this entry she looked at me,
got closer she lay her hand on mine
pale white cold skin, long boney fingers
“please don’t let me go”
she said as she locked her blue eyes on mine

I startled and confused asked
“Who are you?”
She smirked using her last joule of energy
“Your inspiration”

woman stare

Advertisements

Dawn

Jousting thoughts
in the arena of your mind
for no apparent reason
they are fighting
a gory match
till slumber
summons the death of them

Eyes wide awake,
Mind racing,
bed sheets frozen
shadowing your body underneath
with a thin layer of cold separating
your body hollows from the cover

Heart so quiet
you think it stopped beating
Yet the bloodshed
in your mind is keeping your
mental state awake, so awake
it’s bothering your eye lids

They long to close
The eye lashes miss their kin
on the eye lid above

But  you just can’t simply shut them
What’s going on?

The joust still lingers
the television emits vague noises
you can barely hear a dialogue
The shadows of actors play on the wall in front of you
Those thoughts gahd dammit
They revolve around sporadic moments
subconscious fucks with the conscious
you can’t tell what’s real and what’s not?
“Did that happen today? Wait no I dreamt that
Oh fuck, I don’t know” 

Is it possible, can your thoughts
scare sleep away?

Your eyes tear up,
exhaustion is seeping in,
but those eyes of yours
that racing mind, forbid sleep from slithering
through that almost corpse like body of yours

You move your body
to face the television,
hoping for hypnosis and then sleep

The eyes feast, on the movie playing
yet, the processing of the events
has haltered
You “see”, that’s all you do
the link between your eyes and your mind
seems broken
is it the joust? Has is cut the connection?
Have you dived in a vegetable state of being?
Your thinking is halted by the mess up there!

You twist to the other side of the bed
the bed sheets trace your motion
hug your body

You force your eyes to close
the magnetic pull of your eye lids backwards
is fucking with you
it’s not happening!

You put your hands on your eyes
providing an illusion of darkness
a sort of psychological signal
to summon sleep
Yet, you’re still awake
You mumble to yourself
as if conjuring some sort of
sleeping spell

You remove your hands
It’s dawn
the sun is kissing the cusp of your silhouette
You wonder, your annoyed
with a weird rewarding feeling
You have just made a friend
and her name is
insomnia

Insomnia