Really just an amateur trying my hand at this.
As wood turns to ash in the flames, I too am being slowly consumed. My very being slowly eroding before this onslaught of emotions.
By Katie 3 years ago in Poets
There are daisies on the dress, that I’m wearing now. They are a chaos across the fabric. Like daisies of the fields,
I can hear it’s footfalls, chasing me down. No matter how hard I try to outrun it, it is still there. Clinging to me, I cannot shake it.
I took a nap, and when I woke, the world had changed. It took some time for me to notice, how things were slightly skewed. How long had I slept? I cannot say, a week or a day. Mere minutes most likely.
Lately it feels as if I’m dressed in black, devoid of all color. But it suits me, this feeling. It is as if I’m mourning my own existence.
Don’t you dare step out of line! What! You have a question. How dare you question “THE science” Come, join the “good ones” the ones who willingly take their medicine.
If your desire is thus so, then so be it. To be so callously blind to all that transpires, then I have no time for you. Go live your life, your life of consuming, without thought.
Where should I look for inspiration? Might I find it in a sunrise? Surly a stream could give me all that I could ever wish for. Maybe I should run off to the mountains for everything that they would offer.
The longing, the desire, to have that comforting embrace. It rules me, this longing. When it is lacking, when I can no longer feel it, I am at it’s mercy.
Where do I start? How do I bridge the chasm, of the lack of understanding? The monumental lack of them trying to understand.
To dream, my dream, to reality, I must first destroy the one I’m in. I must fan the flames of destruction, on my own existence. Brick by brick I must tear down this false house.
How gently it falls, washing the leaves. The sound and the sight, a comfort. How easily it purges the stress from my body, my soul.
