when i sit here on this bed
i am covered but i feel naked
my pajamas with their little turtles
the sleeves and pant legs ripple in an invisible breeze
i feel like there is something watching me
what it is escapes me, but its presence is substancial
i watch the shadows dance
for the sun has barely risen
and i realize that i have yet to sleep
but this does not bother me
only the ringing silence
that threatens to drown me
with the shadows dancing on the wall
taunting me
telling me that i cannot change who i was
only anticipate what i will become
in this darkness, my isolation
i wait for the sting of fatigue behind my eyes
but it doesn't come
while i sit here on my mattress
covered, yet i feel so bare
exposed and bleeding
from a wound inflicted on my soul
one that can never be mended
only tended and nursed
like you nurse a stubbed toe
hoping that the sting of impact will dull
after all is said and done
i wrote this in a writing group, and thought it was good...but i want other opinions besides my own...what do you all think?
View User's Journal
Initial writings
Starlett Sparklepants
Community Member |
User Comments: [1] [add]
User Comments: [1] [add]
Community Member
~