Eyes of lead,
allied with the pull of gravity.
Two black sails just under the skin.
The criss cross veins,
are a net which catches; your mind is under the surface.
"Why can't I sleep, Why?"
The same question again and again.
Frustration foams the ocean waves,
whom drown me in adrenaline.
Red.Red.Red.
Voices crunch and crumble.
The sound,
reverberates,
around and around.
A bell I cannot escape from.
You are repeating yourself,
but the words still don't make sense.
Limbs are made of sand,
awash with unknown chemicals.
Placebo caffeine,
my mind thinks.
This sane insanity ties me to awake.
Comments
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I love this. A lot. The pace of it is perfect and really adds to the downward spiral feel of the piece. I especially love the imagery of "Limbs are made of sand." Beautiful work.
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