kitty the naughty poet

Rave.

 

A million thoughts swirling,

some falling into the abyss,

others land on separate shelves,

to be remembered in a minute,

maybe a week, or year,

however long it entails.

 

Right now,

my prefrontal cortex,

is trying to have a rave,

my confidence leaps,

failing to put on a show,

memories of loved ones departed,

attempting to prance like their former selves.

 

My focus shifts between,

taking cover as monsters appear,

night falls in,

the rave turns to dust,

dreams of twirling in the sun,

long abandoned in the dark.

 

Silence sings from all sides,

calling my inner voice,

although it pours like rain,

perhaps a waterfall,

I twirl, prance, and dance,

my forgotten thoughts,

mine once more.

 

Written By: Katie Clarke