Anonymous
Only here is the mist that lingers into these lungs, whilst the minute hand casts a shadow on the yet to arrive time, where once strikes it will only yet again be a step ahead of where it needs to be.
Looking over the shoulder do I see my heels kicking off a beaten down street.
Grass between wedges where man may claim defeat.
Oh, so many worries, like the sand in the wind, as grains cluster and damage the possessions in my hands. In here is a planet that birthed one child, cast to survive in a mental dome. Electrons and particles claim the freedom in custody.
Where from long hours of hell can you spot my busted teeth.
From chewing upon falsity since I remember living, a melting pot of lies truth and water churns a mystery that spills into a ground that's been swallowed by a whole vast of arrays that demonstrate such quarrels that only seem to intice so many flies that they swarm into all crevices shoot, even the beehive.
This heart has grown tired from the past of others, not even myself. In me is nothing, and outside is nothing. Yet emotions castrate my ears and call's me a dummy. I used to think it was crummy, however as the sun ascends over the mountains and spreads insight to the beings inhabiting the surface, does a peace seem to revolve around the dark planet in my chest. Also known as the heart.
Towers brick by brick stand to 100 feet collapsing from the weight I somehow create.
Hmm, intriguing to me to have not found the gates, Intriguin to me to see how much I debate.
How much I hate. Patiencs is raped.
The shame it provides urges me to shut the drapes.
TO my friendly adversary that I have named solitude.
Feeding it's tale that sends my attention into ruse.
Somehow by the end I was
Somehow by the end I was thinking, I enjoy solitude. But then I realized I'm always somehow connected Through some sort of device. So can I really call I solitude?
Copyright © JessterStarshine
I'd qualify that as solitude,
I'd qualify that as solitude, you're not having actual human interaction. It's through a device where you don't have to worry about who you are, you're as if a ghost and what not. So yea I think that's solitude.
Okay. You sold me. So then, I
Okay. You sold me. So then, I guess I do enjoy solitude. But I also really enjoy connection.
Copyright © JessterStarshine
Ruse Sent Attention
Poets take the plunge, experiment, go where no writer has gone before. I enjoyed this vocabulary expanding beyond the rhyme and the syntax - stretched to othernesses and placings that live where you live and invite us to see - nice one ~~A~~