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behind messy locks of hair and glassy eyes, it's the pins and needles that are my one true constant — between staccato breaths. between blinks that last hours. between unspoken words that are the gold to the mercury that is my head.
and so, i think about the impending leap.
all that was point blank has turned to pointed blacks, and they spike through the last of my empty paper all at once and leaves it in shreds. the words are in my grasp, but at what cost? the storm in my head might be fleetingly silenced, but the wind outside still flutters the drapes and stingers the hold i have on my pencil.
what if i stepped closer to the leap?
the echo of 'tomorrow is a better day' falls to ears that ceaselessly grasp at nothing but white noise, only to match the distortion that ironically calls itself my sixth sense. the lines between yesterday, today and tomorrow have blurred themselves to turn several days into one. several more into none.
so i stand before the leap,
to watch as the dark paint begins to chip away from the tips of my nails, much like layers and layers of my lucidity.
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*faint; overwhelmed
ŞİMDİ OKUDUĞUN
delirium
Şiirwhen the darkness outside my window turns gloomier than the one inside me, the words embedded in my chest sparkle like jewels. || poetry collection. ©️2019 by auro m.
