Head in Hands

Drowned in grey,
my mind, windswept,
breaks again, skulls sutures
blown, holes where
thoughts leak and fester.

I push at the black,
words dance and trip,
jigsaws tumble, unfitting
serrated edginess
rests, wronged.

Heavy just feels,
touches pressing
displaces rationale
until empty rattles,
filling the space

that was once there.

Poetry by shells
Read 706 times
Written on 2010-11-18 at 00:20

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Esti D-G The PoetBay support member heart!
By the time I had reached the end of your poem I was suicidal with empathy.
Too moving a poem.

Humans raise their arms in joy, hold their head in despair. There is nothing unequivocal about this gesture, or this poem.

How bleak this time of year is. You've caught it and its side effects well.
ps. Spring is closer every day...

jenks The PoetBay support member heart!
"heavy just feels"
I relate I relate...

Soon we will be lighter than air...
The nature of things proclaims :)
As is usual you describe life in all its glory.

John Ashleigh
A very interesting prose. I enjoyed reading this.