Wednesday, April 28, 2010


Her mind deceives her with the blurred appearance of a ghost.
Serrated between the seams,
and the recurring dreams,
it looks over-exposed and raw.
Like a string of old, rubbish photographs held together by the letters which need to be rearranged.
And you’re so tired, aren’t you?
This is when I catch her eyes stuck to the corner of the room, and I tell her to turn the music up louder.
Why are you still here? This is so stagnant and jilted.
She stares at a stain on the wall. She looks into the weeks and months and years.
Your eyes are shut, so apathetic.
She lies awake.


Rajat said...

is this love or is this pain?

Abaddon said...

Sometimes its easier to let our minds go drift off and stare off into space than face the pain we feel inside.

As always amazing. Your poems are so layered they have so many possible meanings. Its truly a skill/art

Pie said...

Mmm. Beautiful. Your writing makes me want to write and write and write. Wonderful.

Snowman said...

Ahh, the atmosphere and tone is mind blowly amazing.

And I agree with Pie. You're very inspirational and you make me want to write.

butterfly said...

Your writings are like beautiful dreams I've always wanted to have.

Make people smile. You do a good job at it.