Poetry

Ramble Tangle

My eyes are tired,

it’s been far too long,

examining words

I’d long thought were gone.

 

The night draws up,

a blanket to my chin,

yet the letters reel on,

I cannot give in.

 

Searching and searching,

I sew back my soul,

catching those secrets

I’d left to grow cold.

 

Time makes it clear,

the rivers flow by,

I’ll take my chance now,

speaking no lie.

 

Poetry

Discombobulate

The fog looms behind my eyes threatening

to seep out if I widen them enough.

Yet my eyes aren’t wide at all, they’re half

closed, eyelids sinking low despite the overwhelming

rushes of air, clinking of keys, feet shuffling

a little too close and perfume forcing its way up my nostrils.

I can feel my body one moment, and in the next

it’s lost, disconnected and I’m a floating head.

A floating head with a parroting voice, a mimic,

a copycat of everything, even emotions.

Not that I don’t feel my own. Mine just won’t display.