Sunday, May 27, 2018

Malaise

The grip of the sky
The softness of land
Fingers crossed behind their back
They offer me their hand

Is it worse to leave too soon
Or stay too late?
To trust too willingly
Or the chance decimate?

I talk to myself
Because I know I'm listening
And I keep to myself
Because their judgments are christening

Blame it on my
Lack of direction
Blame it on our
Fear of rejection

How can you know what love is?
Just another word they created
And I used to be so sure
But my mind's rotated

I prefer pens over pencils
Because their truths can't be erased
And I love your kiss
But I hate the aftertaste

They say the same thing
In a thousand different ways
While we smile
Through the malaise

I miss who I used to be
And am apprehensive as to who I will become
In the end
Will the pieces be bigger than the sum?

New words, old thoughts
Gibberish I write
It all ends the same
Running to our plight

4 comments:

  1. A dozen thoughts inside my head a thousand words but will not end
    My pen is cheap but time is not a week I spent for half a thought
    My stories are a waste of time a minute spent on just this rhyme
    Of course I would repeat myself a hundred words now down to five

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  2. Only a thousand thoughts inside my head
    While a million words I have bled
    In a web of words I've been caught
    In a dozen lies I never bought
    In a never ending spiral that is time's
    In wasted space and wasted rhymes
    Stuck calmly here though inside's a war
    Regurgitating thoughts forever more

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  3. Found it! you fixed it up and extended it. I knew it seemed so very familiar.

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    Replies
    1. Yeah - felt slightly like I was plagiarizing myself, but I liked it and wanted to finish it, so I did . . . also I was feeling uninspired and couldn't think of anything else :P

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