Walking, through pictures
Of lost loves and friends, no more.
Swimming against the tides of indifference,
Trying, to reach the shore.
Can I buy your memories?
You can have all mine for free!
I’m trying to make some kind of sense,
Of the lonely person,
known as me.
Dancing in dungeons, deep and dark.
I wake up.
I sit up.
I dance again.
Escaping brazen battlefields,
Seeking shelter, I’m home.
But battles, neither won nor lost
Are sealed, within the brittle dome.
Submerging, through the storm.
Finally surfacing, in mental twilight.
I clench hold of;
Every precious, drop of respite.
Callous, calculating carcasses,
Stealthily, spreading death,
Enter private places
Before morning’s early breath.
Mesmerizing mists, moulding me.
The proud have become meek.
Changed forever, in an atmosphere
Of sadistic, masochistic mystique.
Masticating melancholic memories; hurts now.
Remorse; will never, be my friend.
Your stabbing with your steely knives
Is driving me round the bend!
Thank you for being so calm, so mild mannered.
Please let go of the string. I want to float.
Our inner mess