Within The Fields Of Luna

I feel so dead
Yet, so at peace…
This is what poets write about
This is what dreamers dreams about:

The utter emptiness of everything…

No words can describe the pleasure I get
From tugging at my face
And seeing these letters dance gracefully
Across these blind pages
Like swans upon a lake

Is this poetry?
Is this storytelling?

I have no answer
It simply IS…..

I’m okay as long as I can write
As long as I can feel the words upon the page
I will be okay…

I am a liar
I am a sinner
I may burn in hell for all eternity
But I do not care
It is worth it
It was all worth it

I cannot read the words I have written seconds ago
They swirl and slither too quickly for my eyes to chase
I can only write…..

Write of what was…
Write of what will be…
Write of what is…
Write of this magical moment inside my room
Sheltered by the heavy blankets that
Soak up the sweat crying from my pores

I am a great mind
If only these years of thoughts and
Poetry could be sold
If only they were read by others
By millions…
They could witness my every thought as
I dot my I’s and curl my y’s

My mouth hangs open
For an eternity that will never come

I am everything
Yet, nothing at all
I am a silent shadow
Not moving…
Nor feeling…
Barely even breathing
Just being…
Because that is the only thing left for me to do

I need sleep
I need pain
I need to know that I can
Feel anything at all

There is no feeling left in these
Tired letters…these commas
These dead and decayed words that
For years have searched for a way out
All I can do is write and repeat this cycle
Of thoughts inside my head
My mouth gaping…
My body numb…
Just writing…

I am happy if my hand is free
I wish you could see this
It is truly amazing
I just want to sit back and stare
At all that is…
At what could be…
At all that is inside the mind of a tragedy

This is how you look at a Picasso
This is how you see through the eyes of a genius
The eyes of a God
This is me
I just am
There is nothing behind these
Shallow breaths and hollow movements of my hand

I want more
I want forever
I want the nothing that I find
In my broken skeleton
I want the puddles of never
That collect under my pillow
To reach out and touch me
As nothing else ever could
Or ever has

I am a simple ghost
Lost in a state of delirium
Unfamiliar even to me
Lost behind my soul
Behind my eyes I curse reality

I curse anything other than this
This music I feel inside my mind
The emptiness and numbness
Behind every swoop and swirl
Of my damned pen
Behind every empty stare
Behind all the untold “I love you’s”

I am here
Hiding in my own world
I was trapped
But now I am free
Free to feel the nothing that is
Free to feel the simple poetry of the moment
Without having to look…
Nor think…
Nor feel…

I want to lie beneath the ocean
I want to feel the chaos crash over me
And not move at all
Nor feel the salt stinging my open wounds
Barely breathing
Yet, begging for every moment
As if it were my last

I do not want to die
I do not want to waste away
In the blatant miscommunication of our world
I want to know a God
I do not want to know what is
But, rather what could be
I do not want to become numb
To the wonder of possibility
My heart is beating
I am still breathing
I am constantly bleeding

But am I living?

Am I daring to look beyond the
Cob-webbed corners of
What is and what I know?

I cannot feel time
All I can do is lie here
In a swirl of my own saliva
Because I refuse to swallow the
Shallow truth behind it all
This is pure genius
This is poetry found in the fields
Under the midnight moon

My darling Luna
You are art
You are love
You are everything we breathe
Or ever will breathe
Through our crisp,black lungs

Because I am here
Lost and taunted
By all that was and never could be again
I scratch at you
Hoping to tear away the flesh
And watch you bleed
I want you to suffer for all you have never done
I am chicken-scratch and fallen tears
On empty and soulless pages
That will never be filled with something real
Something beyond what you can feel
Behind these blatant, faceless shadows
Of what I never want to witness
Exhaustion is all I know
This is everything and nothing
All in the same pill
That I found buried by the moonlit magic
Of the midnight fields

Within The Fields Of Luna

Trish Cooper

Bloomington, United States

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