the canal of my pupil
inflames with rest,
the ceiling touches my forehead,
everything is small
and attached.
now that the world is finally close,
it's hollow.
there is room for my body
in my head,
I sink into sleep
and accept
that there are two kinds of death in the world
and this
does not seem temporary
Author notes
but it always is
Comments
1 - 20 of 20
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this is great... simple, yet really powerful.
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got some power in that, love
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thank you
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oh damn.
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this is so simple and good. why don't you write too often?
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well i'm not really a writer, these poems are really just the products of me stumbling around on a poetry website from time to time. and i guess i don't have a lot of ideas for poems, or ideas at all. i'm glad you like it though
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leave the judging to the spectators. and you are welcome.
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I prefer not to think this way...mac
I prefer not to dwell on death. He alone knows when ones time is at hand...mac
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amazing.
it's one of those poems that doesn't make your mouth taste like stale milk. if that makes sense.
which is why i loved it.
and i don't even like short poems.
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Truly amazing... just by reading this poem, I can tell I found a new favorite on AP.
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its also hollow felt a little off in the flow
but this is fantastic. very succinct. straightforward.
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hmmm, if i took out "also" would that help?
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YES.
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ok, thank you. and thanks for the favorite too
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everything is temporary. I like your style, I could feel everything you were saying which is important and you do so with simplicity. thats talent.
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thank you!
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i like it.
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your writing is so minimal, and so good too
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thanks danny
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