Back to the Darkness

A Poem By Flying Past Clouds // 6/13/2013

The doomsday false prophets have
Gotten to my head and
Are hacking away with puddings and bread
They whisper secrets and tell me lies
Fill me up on final goodbyes

It's funny how life gets you
Comfortable, with a lover and a nice
Home, maybe even a dog or a kid or two
But, as is life's course, takes it away in
One foul swoop

The water is mocking me, the
Man in the window brandishes a gun and
The ghost in my closet throws me a doll
That has chestnut hair and steals my job
(They disappear when I tell my mom)

What fun is insanity when you're not the only one that sees it?
What fun is this torture when everyone else can feel it?
What fun is this private hell if there's more people in it?

I lost my joy in a blizzard of feelings
I lost my reason to live in a fallen house of cards
My thoughts were late, my expectations too high
I'm practising grieving for the rest of my life
Not that it'll matter much anymore

My next chance for joy is six hours ahead no matter what time
And it takes ten days to a month to send a letter
I'm driving myself insane with this heavy burden
The nights around here
Aren't much better

Tears. Sweat. Blood. Pain.
Joy. Smiles. Memories. Laughter.
Someone screams, 'We haven't much longer'
The monitor goes wild
Where's my hand to hold?


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