here I lie

breath_of_life__by_qinni-d94awbg.jpg
Image courtesy of: Qinni 

when was the last time
I cried?

maybe that is why
words no longer roll off
my impatient tongue
and spill across blank pages
like sunlight adorned with
the oddities of a kaleidoscopic heart.

Instead, I am drowning in debris,
shattered glass and cheap neon beads,
mirror shards reflect my inability

to colour these heavy, broken dreams.

stale stories drip and smear
into sameness, inky disappointments
always fades to black, they
pool under hunched shoulders,
no wings or will to reach the
surface, swirling storms of
lost letters brush against the rib cage,
 – shut up, give up, not good enough –
jarring words hook into the bone
and pulls my milky irises 
and emptied mind
beyond the reach of the pale moon light
here is where the small-fry,
in all the glory of obscurity lies.

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4 thoughts on “here I lie

  1. There are some deeply relatable lines in this piece. My favorite part was this:
    “pool under hunched shoulders,
    no wings or will to reach the
    surface, swirling storms of
    lost letters brush against the rib cage,”
    Lovely piece.

    Like

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