Down those dark roads, making abrupt turns in and out of sanity. I can feel the pressure boiling over. Come back to the centre of gravity. As I think about the sky getting older, I paint over the brush marks of narcissism. The first lick of salt is recognisable, a cold wind in my bones. The shadows of my ghosts follow me home, and when I've been up all night brooding the regret slips through my hands. I tell myself it's normal to feel so depressed. I make excuses for myself and fall into deep breaths. How long have we been talking over the phone? Listeners know the feeling. The pouring wax into the body of the sapphire. I went into the mines of love thinking I would die in the seas of passion, but now the regret is slipping through my hands.
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Author:
Jordan Cash (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 30th, 2021 15:26
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 39
- User favorite of this poem: aDarkerMind.
Offline)
Comments2
painful in a most beautiful write. your writing has captured me!
Thank you for this very sweet comment Darker Mind
♥♥♥
Deep words we write what is close to our hearts minds souls over time years we can change how we wrote as how we change in our lives
♥♥♥
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