Sick

I feel therefore I think.

I’m sick of getting old.

I’m sick of thoughts

thinking and overthinking- thoughts that think of things

things that scream and swallow me whole

kicking pushing straining from beneath my thoughts.

 

I’m sick of logic.

I’m thinking I’ve overthought-

minds drowning in spinning

reservoirs swimming in doubt

tricks of the mind tripping my lips

drawing curtains on crevices of my heart

dragging them through rivers of thoughts

rushing cold waters of me-

 

I

can’t

breathe.

 

Everything drowns me.

 

Feelings- I’m sick of them.

They’re there.

“I like to wave at them as they pass by”

 

I’m sick of feelings.

I feel what I feel when I feel

but I feel

why how where

heart shoving bubbling

tears down my throat

constantly changing channels

up down left right

flickers of forest fires

lightning igniting everything I see-

 

I

can’t

breathe.

 

I’m sick of desire.

I’m sick of desiring what is undesirable.

 

Desire

Feelings

Thoughts

When we think we feel

when ice cream falls from the cone

our hearts are cornered in the rings-

ringing like floating clocks in my eyes

where time does nothing but cling to the

 

RING                                  RING                                  RING

RING                                  RING                                  RING

 

prying my heart to feel

to pump

to bleed

to stretch

to tear

to reveal everything that’s me.

 

But I’m sick

heart in my throat

brain in my ears

eyes bloodshot- bloodheavy-

in motion and motionless

I think

I think

I think

                            THINK   THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK THINK

 

I CAN’T

BREATHE.

I’m sick of me. 

Reviews

[robert harris jr]

nice poem very movinglots of feeling