my thoughts are mixed up of present time
and words of poetry i have not yet written

I think of you but can only make it so far
before my mind creates a metaphor for
the emptiness that this small soul of mine
now is

Woke up
still drunk,
I feel so sick
listening to Cigarettes After ***
while writing this.

These tears I held back
for a few years have
come and gone and
now I'm hungover.

My thoughts drift slow and lazy
through the valleys of my mind,
reaching out for answers,
searching for something I left behind.

My memories were here once before
with darkness, screams and pain,
the intense fire of creative spirit
dampened to pulp by a wicked brain.

So where did I leave myself
when I escaped in to my head?
I've deconstructed the mental walls
to discover the places I had fled.

Between. Betwixt. Bewitched. Be still,
a balm to soothe this anxious seer.
My thoughts drift slow and lazy
through the valleys of my fears.


© Pagan Paul (20/05/17)