The words keep coming. Coming in a voice like thunder, it needs to escape! I can't write fast enough, it keeps coming! The pain in my head feels as what can only be described as the fast approach of an army towards my sanity's alamo. How long can I last?
The almost lyrical ravings of one who is a me I am most unfamiliar with. I dream of death. Body parts and blood and the horror of the last fading thoughts of those my dreams feel acceptable to bring me.
The words keep coming! I can't stop, no, I must not allow myself to stop. Because every time the pen touches the paper is a slight relief that even a single vision has been overlooked, unforseen.
Why am I seemingly the only person cursed with the sight? The voices and the words, words that have no begining and no end.
My spelling is horrific. But in that flaw tells that somewhere in my mind is a place of emotion, imperfection, and sanity. It is the only hope I can bring myself to hold, false though it may be.
A contest entry
- Inspire a young depressed soul, give me inspiration by Fedrizzi.
340 points, ended December 20, 2007, 26 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Talking to yourself...Have we had a breakthrough??
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ddaannnggg
wow, this is beautiful, descriptive, and you have painted a potrait in words, ty so much for entering!, best of luck in the contest -
wow
i dont know about you guys, but i love it,
. good job for finally getting through your writer's block mythian, we are back.
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