out of reach

I sleep in a societal cage
I rest my head on my father's bones

I accepted the death of everyone
I know long ago

Coffee can't keep me awake
I smoke a pack a day

I don't come home until
the sun begins to burn the treetops

Bleary bloodshot eyes watch words
slip across the page without lines

I automatically write
with an ethereal hand atop mine

I bought these chains
And the world reinforced the locks

I have empty hands
and a mouthful of paradox

The breath does expire
the infinite is nonexistent

and out of reach

these things are beyond
human ken to fathom at all

to thrash around for meaning,
to desperately grasp at straws





         



2 comments:

  1. I like the depth in this poem. How it is clear that you just wrote it because it would stay in, how it describes everything about you in less than two hundred words.

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  2. As always thank you for reading.
    I wrote this very quickly and edited nothing.
    I don't know that it describes everything about me, but it does capture what I was at that moment. Almost like a snapshot of emotion
    (& frustration).

    And of course I sometimes put myself in the point of view of others (not that I did that in this work too much).

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