Why is it that as soon as the clock strikes two
There's suddenly less of me and more of you.
how is it that every little detail
now finds its way to me
a wave of sadness,
a hint of solitary
and I'm suddenly breaking barriers
Thrashing at my walls
cursing myself for every wrong turn.
Funny how later in the day
I know the turns were okay, how the walls are meant to keep us safe.
but it's the ticking of the clock on the wall above my bed
Or maybe the triggering thought at the back of my head
the one I keep burying
only to know it's growing its roots now,
tightening it's grip,
reminding me it's here to stay.
Whatever it is, it knows it has a way.
Whatever it is it scares me
why it won't come out in the light of day
And only when I'm all alone
Does it find me it's best prey. 🕸️
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-M
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Mind & Musing
الشعرWhat I love about poetry is how every reader makes sense of it differently, in a way that it's almost personal to them. Here's series of poems written by Me. But I'm hoping you find your story in them too. 🥀
