Date: 27.06.2008
Time: 3:25 p.m.
Within closed spaces of my limits
I roll and writhe hoping to reach
And cling forcefully to the edges,
Meandering most mirthlessly
And groping damp walls of my dungeon.
The spikes that gaze gleefully at me
Let their metal intentions be known to my skin
As I scrape against them in desperation
To flee from my dark prison
In search of my transitory winged ride.
As the metal sinks deeper, I leave
Pain behind in mid-sensation
Extending my senses outwards
With my seeping blood
That adorns my punctured body.
It is as light is to blind eyes
A wondrous salve never experienced
Casting shadows not to be felt
By shielded folds of withered skin
Shut to them forever.
Calming deafness of the brain
Blots out the vestiges of pain
Teeth don’t gash to leave red welts
Nothing’s heard and nothing’s felt
I leave those walls behind my psyche.
And it is all transitory
When I wake into it once more
Captured again within my cage
In mock defeated rage
I lie shivering, fear is oddly dear.
End: 3:40 p.m.
4 comments:
I like this poem cuz it doesn't bullshit the reader in any way.
Very honest. Very cool.
And hey, as Jim said, "no one here gets out alive" :)
N
Nothingman: Thank you! That was an honest comment too. :)
I do fear I have overlooked this poem. I am so sorry.
Yet, I also think that somehow the fear you talk about is transitory as well. Hopefully it has passed. :]
Kaz: Aww, I know you hate having to comment on poems. It's ok! And yes, it has. At least I hope so. :]
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