Tortured

My eyelids weigh heavy and I'm trapped with my thoughts
the weight increasing relentlessly
like the room's filling with water around me
its up to my eyes.
Sometimes thoughts can drown you.

Distant voices echo at me as I smile and nod
(stifling what's inside, so's not to give me away)
I'm not listening.

Each passing hour merges reality with dreams
joining two fabrics of consciousness together to form a new one
the shapes and shadows that drift by confuse me . . .
but who's to say this isn't the way its meant to be?

The thoughts that have kept me awake so long
form a fog - harder to navigate or act upon.
A voice deep down still screams for sleep
Screams that fall upon deaf ears.
Though they call me to a better place
Away from the haunting, beautiful face
I'm not listening.

That mask of beauty that hides something else
Never lets me escape too far (always picking at the scar)
Burnt into my eyes,
true beauty, real beauty is obscured by it
Logic is over-ruled by the sting
Heart like a phantom limb long since torn from me

I can't breathe.
I can't hear,
I can feel,
I can't sleep.

Reviews

[Natalie C]

Wow such a wonderful piece, filled with vivid images that really takes the reader to where you want them too go. Even though this is supposed to have a dark feel to it, because of the darkness in which you describe so wonderfully, it has a certain feel of sincerity, almost a �peacefulness�...
(if I am allowed to say that)

Your fist stanza is a winner:

My eyelids weigh heavy and I'm trapped with my thoughts
the weight increasing relentlessly
like the room's filling with water around me
its up to my eyes.
Sometimes thoughts can drown you.

It really grabbed me and forced me to read and re-read you piece over and over again.

Very well done Jon

This is definitely a fav!
Thanks for sharing.

[O!]

That's ME!!!!!!!!!!!...u could use my avatar right now for the poem!....hahahaha

the imagery is so good.......i couldnt word it better.....

going to my faves.....coz i relate just so well with this......u nailed it!

x,
O!

[Damien Dsoul]

There is a delicate feel to this poem, and it's something that's more to be sensed than actually known. Every stanza carries a stamp pristine workmanship in bringing out the thoughts that lay hidden under the words. The poem enables us the vision of viewing the poet's haunted thoughts, as they intermingle with his imagination in a work of surreal intensity. The first stanza is so beautifully written, it's imagery nearly outweights the rest of the work. And the last line in the second stanza clues us into the poet's bafflement in comprehending all that he's see: "but who's to say this isn't the way its meant to be?"

Very Daliesque!

[Poeticpiers]

I know that feeling Insomnia and I are lifelong aquaintances. However if I can't sleep I write until I can sleep pointless wasting time tossing and turning. What you desire most is not always within your grasp and wishing will not make it so.