People In My Head
Metaphysical limbs
in a 4D palace
cling to me
in the option of summer day
Shutting doors of those forgetful
Stealing seats of those away
Keeping company’s space empty
Then, whispering nothing words in vain
Touch the hollow spaces
around tenuous neck veins
Press razors against abated wrists
And steal the victim tears you take
that keep you living
in summer’s day
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
IconoclastSalem
Faeries, magick, enchantment, Tir Na Nog, Mother Earth, poetry, the stars, and wonder are all I need in life. Hey, I'm Salem. I'm just an average nobody trapped in forever cycles of hurt and repent. My mind mixes thought and reality ever so painfully which, in turn, creates the chaotic painting that is my life. Who said chaos couldn't be beautiful?
View all poems →Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.