Welcome to My Poetry Site
Clammy
Feels like I'm dying
cold clammy hands,
some weird stuff
going on with my heart.
Missing the only one
I'd consider talking to.
Why am I always
left out in the cold.
Bitter wind,
freezing rain
turns to hail
and bites my face
with cold burns.
I daydream
of a time
in another place
where I'm no longer
ignored &
freedom is a thing.
Grief,
gods the grief.
Feels like I'm trudging
through mud
that quickly turns
to quicksand.
Trapped.
Going down, down
to the centre of the earth.
Dreams captured.
And smashed!
With contempt & rage.
Wearily making
my final
grand exit.
Temperature slows
to a deathlike chill.
All motion stops
& life is no more.
Brainwaves
slow down
to nill.
copyright 2021
by Insomnia
(AJ Kline Robinson)
written August 1, 2021
9:21 p.m.
Feels like I'm dying
cold clammy hands,
some weird stuff
going on with my heart.
Missing the only one
I'd consider talking to.
Why am I always
left out in the cold.
Bitter wind,
freezing rain
turns to hail
and bites my face
with cold burns.
I daydream
of a time
in another place
where I'm no longer
ignored &
freedom is a thing.
Grief,
gods the grief.
Feels like I'm trudging
through mud
that quickly turns
to quicksand.
Trapped.
Going down, down
to the centre of the earth.
Dreams captured.
And smashed!
With contempt & rage.
Wearily making
my final
grand exit.
Temperature slows
to a deathlike chill.
All motion stops
& life is no more.
Brainwaves
slow down
to nill.
copyright 2021
by Insomnia
(AJ Kline Robinson)
written August 1, 2021
9:21 p.m.
