I feel Numb
I feel Comatose
the world around me
continues to spin
Yet I stand in one place.
If not for the gift of poetry
My mind would be empty
Spiders would crawl
down my spine
Laying eggs in the core
I feel like a bee without it's stinger
I write words
that flow out my mind
into the black ocean of my pen.
Whispers crawl between my eyes
as they tell me things will be okay
loneliness inches down the back of my neck
parasite
Burn with cigarette
Wondering Nomad
Traveling the dessert
of my tragic mind
The poet lends a guiding star
If only I could breath
the fresh air a little longer
As I walk this comatose life
I make my own destiny with my pen
In this comatose world
I am the Joker
the king
the thief
But we are all comatose
in between the steps
to my salvation
and the steps
to my daemons
lies my true self.
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