Sometimes I am not my usual self
The darkness engulfs my innermost thoughts
All I can see is the void stretching out
With cool mist swelled fingers the void chokes me
Cuts off the air I try to inhale
Stuffs the exhale back into my mouth
Stale, damp, fetid
There is a certain unkindness to being alone
Especially on a night like this
When all I have near me
Are those things that would rend me
Those things that would end me
Those endless, mindless, thoughtless, shadows
Stretching towards me
like a mouth ready to swallow
toothless and grinning
hollow and empty
It waits for me
Sometimes
YOU ARE READING
I See Through
PoetryPoetic musings of Barry Tudor on life and introspection. A journey of a motorcycling American poet lost in the midst of his own country. Hellish past. Glorious present.
