lay still...

0 Comments

lay still...

Spinning, spinning.... spinning out of control

The world looks nothing like it usually does

A blurry mass of people clumped together moving to quickly for me to make out features

Tall buildings tower over me, and the sky seems so much higher than usual.

Lips are moving, but no words are legible

I can make out only the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears...

Not the normal thump.. Tha dump...thump...tha dump....

But more so a cry of pain and despair

A sound I have never heard from within me before

It is saying "lay... lay... lay still"

"lay still until the world stops spinning

Lay still until the tears dry

Lay still until the pain subsides

Lay still until the faces are no longer blurry

Let life pass you by...."

Concrete graces my fingertips, which then move towards my eyes,

Wet, cold tears....

A pain so inconceivable it has knocked me to the earths floor

And now I realize why I am spinning, why the world is blurry, why peoples features

Look more like blended colors and less like the beauty I usually see

I understand why the buildings tower, and the sky seems an unreachable distance

And I understand why my heart cries....

Shattered, and broken... and though I am nothing but scattered pieces

Somehow each disconnected atom is enraptured with the same amount pain.,,,

A pain so deep that my soul cannot be contained by my own body

My eyes, an eternal river, refuse to dry

Betrayed by my own heartbeat which refuses to serenade me with the normalcy

Of thump... tha dump.... Instead it cries... lay.... lay.... lay still

"Lay still until the world stops spinning

Lay still until the tears dry

Lay still until the pain subsides

Lay still until the faces are no longer blurry

Lay still and let life pass you by...."

LET LIFE PASS YOU BY....

 

Poem Comments

(0)

Please login or register

You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

Login or Register

When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

oldsoul’s Poems (12)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Summer Rain 1
You are my purpose 0
Fishing Date 0
Undeniable 1
can anyone help me with this poem? i cannot finish! 0
YO-YO 1
As if 2
scent 0
We are but... 2
I will fill books 0
lay still... 0
I remember easy love 2