Staring at a screen...
trapped inside my mind
A dying body sinks into this tattered sofa ~
a marble plopped atop stale pudding
One arm props my cheek, the other, hung crooked ~
a busted marionette tossed within spinning concrete
Staring at a screen...
trapped inside my mind
Legs tremble and dance to the melody of my moans ~
we listen in torture, against a private orchestra our own
Toes pull in, as fingers would to crush a rotting plum,
reaching closer to the skin, my feet will soon be broken
Staring at a screen...
trapped inside my mind
My heart trots along at the speed of a sprint,
unaware of the marathon starting ahead
A mist of sweat, mixed with tears, begins to quickly collect
into my shirt ~ a mosaic of wet patches sporadically surfaces
I watch each grow wide, like pupils to a candle gone cold
Staring at a screen...
trapped inside my mind
Agony is but a word,
for its existence, if witnessed,
needs nothing of the sort
|
Author Notes
Words cannot explain what it's like to stare vacantly ahead and think of nothing that would bring you joy, even the tiniest sliver. Words cannot explain what it's like to be trapped in such a way.
Free verse can have rhymes, near or perfect, just no set pattern...
thanks to GImages
|
|