I’m losing all my friends like
it’s an obligation; this is
the witching hour and
a trickling down my back,
along my shoulders, ghost fingers
of someone who used
[English is an ugly language,
not enough ways to say
I don’t like what I’m
the evening is a lover
who never loved me right: leaving
telltale bruises where
no one else will see, walking
out the door as I heave
up my various
meanwhile, she whispers
“it’s a sickening thought—
we’re nothing but speculations
in a dim room”
3am ramblings and conspiracy theories
I don't know why the monsters tend to come out at night, but they certainly do. You've just put it so well. Paranoia in all its various shapes and sizes blooms after sunset.
I love every one of these, but I'd be willing to bet there are a few great poems in here if you broke them up.
Wonderful, thank you for sharing a bit of your soul with us.
Oh damn! I can't resist faving.... Another one.
I adore your ramblings
reminds me of my messy self and the emptiness I feel at times. The vastness of emptiness - both terrifying and calming. I love the metaphor in the 3rd strophe. The last section is so very haunting - speculations in a dim room. Humans are so small in the grand scheme of things, yes. I really enjoyed poring over this.
All of your poems just make my heart flutter ^u^
You seriously write all of my thoughts and feelings and experiences out. Just a lot more eloquently and with better execution.