Of Poetry

I crashed yesterday. I guess I should have seen it coming. It started with me getting tense and getting those small chest pains and then suddenly, I was suffocating all over, the broken glasses dug into the shallow skin of my life. So, this is me now, sick and tired, so tired that I can’t go to the parade even. On the other hand though poetry has caught me, and that is leaving me scared, because no matter what they say, poetry does not catch you like…

He came out of the woods
An window we could visualise
If only we kept an open mind
And in a moment we realised
That we’re all flying

It comes in differently, like

A blizzard through the night sky
Snowflakes that pierce into your skies
A blue sky into the faltering heart
A tear which is pure pure ice

Which is why I am scared really, because I am crashing and I am poetic and everything is mixing together to create a cocktail of something that  do not quite understand yet. I am trying to put together the pieces which are crumbling sand.

I like putting down depression as an experience, but, it is more really. It is a broken string that keeps playing the same tune again and again and you are muted, unable to move, your hands and legs locked and your motivation a silver line in the sky that is forever melting.

It’s also fear, of failure, of never getting what you want, of always being alone. ANd I cannot give up on that, can’t run away from that.

So, yes, I am crashing and I am writing poetry.

I am also thinking about all the “I Love you”s I would take back from him by the end of this. Because I don’t know how much any of those words meant to me and it is not really about meaning anyway because all of those were spoken with feeling but, feelings are scary things when you are crashing.

So, yes goodbye now


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