Liken the language of love to the loathing of living.
Make sense? About how hard it is to love – you know?
And the times when simply breathing takes more life
Than your listless lungs wish to muster.

In these moments I stare starkly at nothing. A leaf.
Ants dribbling by on the window ledge; people far below;
Thin clouds wafting away, like wisps of white dreams;
The molded bread on the table which smiles cruelly.

In these moments I forget to breathe, so lost are
My real eyes and so far away has love slunk, sulking.
In these moments I could be a fish, water as oxygen
Inside looking out, as life mocks, calling – “love me.”


About Pitboss14

Cosmic surfer of paradoxes.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s