Looping Conversations

Unfiltered Series - Ep 2

Damed floating athwart,
Why must I catch them all?
Did you grip my heart?
Pulsed my heavy nods,
Trapped my own mind, in hypermnesia,
The dare! Couldn't you give this to another?

I ramble too much, about grey rooms,
dormancy, one that originates from pain and doubt,
I may say sadness, is a rare thing to feel, for me.

Don't want the attention or the pity, 
They are rotten when practised.
Yet, here I write and I show my hypocrisy openly.

My idiotic principles don't let me accept,
Rush without proper setting.
Silly girl, everyone is doing it. It's trendy!

Your ears are ringing again, 
and your headache is returning; 
No more ibuprofen for those arteries!

It's for the missing warmth,
I got a daft blanket, lucky me!

The more I learn and write, the less I know, 
I feel more ignorant about which alien word I write.
It isn't self-erosion but I'm not self-posturing, either,
witnessing an invisible carrier without its wearer noticing.
Like seeing without being seen. 

Just so many questions, I have.
Can't find the space for them all.

My intuition wins every battle and never fails,
Yet, I feel I know nothing, always wandering.
From doubt doesn't diminish confidence,
But it doesn't secure reality either.
Never on solid grounds, tragic tale. 

Here I am again mumbling when I should be sleeping,
Got duties to fulfil tomorrow!
The work you love so much but you are burning out.
You desperately need those holidays! 
Like a wounded animal needs its medicine.
Didn't you learn the last time?

The wind outside is loud,
It whispers through the window,
And you thought it was from your ear, hilarious!

Still grey and warm, the bed.
Why must I endure this curse?

Give it to someone else, who needs it,
to find purpose and meaning in themselves.

Why must I be discerning in my mere existence?
I just want silence from my own madness.

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Artwork by Bernie Wrightson

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