Here.

Here you lay, keeping the clock company.

Your eyes glazed with thought.

Birds chirp outside your window, cars speed by on the street outside,

And while you can hear every tiny sound, they go in one ear,

And out the other.

You can feel the creaking of floorboards, and beds,

And the soft thumping of your heartbeat.

You can’t help but wonder what’s keeping that steady beat going.

Definitely not you.

In that moment you realize with great relish, that if someone were to line up a perfect shot

With your skull, you would smile with a crinkle at the corners of your eyes.

That thought itself should terrify you, but you’re far too tired to feel anything of great importance.

You memorize every time a violent wave crashes within you

And can easily count how many times the sharp waters have licked and lapped at your rib cage.

Your eyelids flutter and your fingertips turn into stone.

Your lungs fill with sand and create beaches.

Papers, books and the tedious ticking of the clock taunt you.

They swirl around you in a tornado-like storm.

But, you can’t move.

You’re trapped by your stone fingers, stormy waters, condescending thoughts and your ever-steady, thumping heart.

So I continue to lie here, and keep the ticking clock company. 

Reviews

[Stormy Weather]

Okay, if there's anything I love the most about poetry, it's parallelisms. Like the first and last lines of your poem here. So, love you for that. ALSO, I like how it's a little bit vague, and yet completely comprehensible. I can only imagine what your head must have sounded like while you wrote this. Authors always have an inspiration or someplace where their poem or story stems from, and I always wonder what yours are. Either way, every word in this means something to you, and I like it for that. You give the mundane meaning.

[Stormy Weather]

I feel like someday I should sit down with you and tell you what my poems are about. I love reading your reviews, they're always so fantastic. Thank you :)

You and I should have our own private little sleepover thing or something where we can do just that

[Stormy Weather]

Yess, yes. Excellent.

[Mr Alednac]

This is a very descriptive poem and a lot of people can relate to it, I really like how the descriptiveness increases and increases throughout the poem, especially at the end talking about the organs and stuff and then it comes back to reality at the end. Really great stuff!!

[Stormy Weather]

Thank you!