Stillborn
A poem
Overkill is what it is,
the unknown, the raver seething at my seams, patching up the hole in me.
I'm writing another letter I will never send
Arm in arm with the dark and aching eyes, heavy with unshed tears,
misplaced tear(s), unfed fears—
grrrr-rr-r, breakdown, can't you hear the clanging of the gears?
A whole solar system pretending to be a person,
rare stare of implosion has doused my mind in derision,
emotions feed, now listen to my intellect bleed,
The life is scurrying away like cold water among reeds,
A tick-tacking click between end and beginning,
I'm in the vicious cycle clocking punches at this ego,
slowly cueing autopsies on conversations I had many lives ago..
Stir this abundance of inherited sadness,
Patch up the oblivion and save me from the madness,
I've seen the embers die, I've seen the fire leave my eyes,
It is the pain I do not share that builds a home inside of me.