A FINE LITTLE LINE....
A FINE LITTLE LINE...
I heard my soul scream
last night... as I slept
while my dead visitors
studied me... in silence
As they injected...themselves
their pain and suffering into my veins
where I have scratched... this surface
to bleed them out
I see them... in vivid color
I can identify them
by their individual odors
and internal scars of life
The afterglow
of being... a human being
They show me things
awful and debilitating
but I grin and collect it all
as I am... accustomed to
Some dreams are not... for the faint of heart
and some horizons... should not be
Fatigue has set in
by this valley of visions
it's entirety has hindered...
...my existence
It is not simple
it is not black and white
It is a form of energy
stranded and or chained
for reasons... that I will not know
I ask and have asked
there will be... no answer
Why do they stay... upon this plane
why do they wallow and wail
leaving me with a belly swollen
with deep cold emotions
from another level of living
I carry their burden
of a life ended in sorrow
I carry my own
somewhere
With my own being suffocated
between the threshold of misery
from familiar faces... and of strangers
The damned comes to mind
can this be my own glimpse
and what if I am... already dead
dwelling among a universe
designed... just for me...
Will I be
hiding behind denial
or just... forever
not knowing
I ask...
If you know pain in dreams
how would you know... if you were alive
...when you wake
I cringe contemplating
Just maybe this is my own
...chaos...embedded from the other side
of life...created... from an order of...my death...
Written by,
Abby lynn
©
2012
Vote for this poem
A FINE LITTLE LINE....
|
|
|
©2000 - 2022, Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors. Visit My Home Page | Start Your Own Poetry Site | PoetryPoem [ Control Panel ] [ Today's Poetry - ALL Poets ] [ Search ]
|
|