PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The door is open.
Spirits race out into the dark.
They are escaping.
Re-inventing death.

I am one of the spirits.
I am one of the lost.
Escaping into the dark.

The door closes.
Slams shut
Now I am outside.
Lonely spirit lost.
Lonely voice screaming in anguish.

Horrors upon horrors.
Night upon black.

Hot wind sears thought.
I think but I am thoughtless.

Cavern of space
with empty eyes.
Sockets of disease proliferating
in jangled tones of sombre.

Grey moon.
Overshadowed undercurrents
of lisping lips.

Are they mine?

Are they mine?

I don't know how to love me.
Useless thinking wasted on
emotions that are shapeless reunions
of sliding weeds.

I am growing a skin.
It is bleeding.

The door is my answer.
Slam it shut.

Don't let the tears out.
They may define my state of mind.
But in truth,

they are shallow.

So am I.