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de///mentia seeds

sitting naked 
freshly bathed 
luscious bubbles
buried me
chrysalis of
steaming vapors
swathed me loosely
swooned or stoned
warm and silent
thoughts on hold
as they ferment 
laced with mold
now the water’s
getting cold
If I may be so bold
hand me a towel
lend me a hand
as in my naked state
I stand,
crisp the air 
that fills the room
so please prepare
a place for me to
sleep or stare
at the ceiling 
unamused
at my mind 
turbid... confused.

    I plan to revise this poem: please leave constructive criticism!
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Comments


  • sinfull
    November 9

    Edit | Reply
    A towel a teddy bear a cat. there is no better cure than that. I hadnt read this befor BB.. you satartled me. =)


  • fiona8 silver member
    November 8

    Edit | Reply
    Hi, I think I remember this. Here's a towel, now, settle in and look out at the stars.....


    • Babies Blues
      November 9

      Edit | Reply

      memories

      I only had it half way here when I posted on YA.. I added a bit and was not sure why or where it took me..


  • Babies Blues
    November 8
    Edit | Reply

    stages of dementia, shadow my thinking on this one