The pull

 

I feel most at home

in that nighttime quiet zone,

where the stars are given centre stage,

and the moon finds herself

written upon my page.

It's during these hours

I control the sounds.

I can decide how loud

my minds chorus shouts.

I can dim it down,

until it's barely raising its voice,

or I can amplify the noise

to a crushing roar. It's all my choice.

 

During daylight dazzle and glare

I become too aware of the other...

The creeping drone of humanity

starting to smother. I find myself alone…

But surrounded.

Claustrophobically enclosed within

the vast open world I'm walking in.

The dial on the volume control

is always tuned to eleven,

There are no quite moments, no safety zone.

Just piercing tones scratching through my bones.

How can I find answers, or take notes,

when I can't hear the questions or diagnose

the quotes those questions provoke?

 

Daytime trickles inside.

Insidiously…

It pours through the atmosphere

in liquidity,

until you feel your lungs burst full...

Gasping for air. Oxygen depleted.

your mind wants to hide, pull the blinds

fear, it senses danger near.

But the noise…

the ever-constant noise won't lull.

 

You start to feel the pull...

 

The pull...

 

It's calling out...

Mind shattered like a broken mirror,

scattered pieces litter

the confines of your head.

Your senses answer in screams,

sounds like the chorus of the dead.

As you are left, fingers red

from blood youve shed,

trying to pick up the other shavings

that have already fallen off,

Until they are just a pile of wasted sawdust

that once made sense in your head.

But you still feel the pull

angry at its unanswered call...

 

I feel most at home when light gets dimmed.

The blinding beams bring

a sound of their own.

It aches and it grinds,

playing tricks on the mind.

It's like the hum of old,

but that only came out at night,

or so the fables told. Has it evolved?

Found a new way to get inside?

 

 

Thanks for reading
Follow this link for more.
https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff

 
You can find my New books
"Tales from the 44A" and "Stations
here
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DBKXPN13/
and here

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0DFV8N7XH

 

Please buy a copy if you can

it would really help me
continue to do this.

Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle

Shallow grave

 

Spent so long in

this bed-shaped coffin.

No lid, no walls,

but I feel stuck.

Confined within

this shallow grave,

dug into the bed.

Clinging memory foam

sparks hollow dreams

into my head.

I don't have energy to move.

My feet have

forgotten the groove.

All I can seem to do

Is watch the insides

of my eyelids droop.

 

Depression deadening

my expressions.

Face just splays out,

like a stray cat

on a hot tarmac

roadside. My smile, 

forgotten,

feels like a lead weight

around my lips.

A workout just to lift,

an exercise in futility

trying to make the frown shift

 

Curled in a ball

In this corner

beside the wall.

I make myself.

Small.

I see the tear-shaped

smears across my eyes.

Not cried in some time,

but these riverways are

deeply inscribed,

from where

former tears did fall.

 

Struggling to even

stumble to my feet.

A face full of stubble

in the mirror I greet.

Cold water,

can't face the heat.

Just shock

some sense back

into me. A splash at a time.

Washing away days old grime,

but nothing can clear

the fog in my mind.

 

 

Thanks for reading
Follow this link for more.
https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff

 
You can find my New books
"Tales from the 44A" and "Stations
here
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DBKXPN13/
and here

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0DFV8N7XH

 

Please buy a copy if you can

it would really help me
continue to do this.

Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle

On the edge of a melody

 

As I sit in this

delusional mimicry

of happiness,

a mask of lies.  I hide

that inside I'm feeling

inconsequential.

See, my shell of illusion is failing

and I'm showing the truth, in the

uncoordinated sadness

that encircles me.

 

A part of me

is tied to a dream.

Par for the course it seems,

and that dream

can never be reality,

it's a fallacy,

built of hope and star dust,

and a big old lungful of love

that I breathe.

But it's not enough

to just believe.

 

So I hold out a hand.

Come and meet with me

where the dream

parts ways with reality.

Let us just sit in that world

for a day, I'll sleep away the hurt,

if you'll dream with me today.

Let this world of mine encircle you

and give to you

all the love I have stored inside.

So that you can spread it wide,

wherever your wings can fly.

 

See I'm floating

precisely

where I always

find myself.

Somewhere out to sea.

The waves speaking to me,

greeting me. My feelings

precariously perched

on the edge

of a strummed gentle

melody. Telling me

that love

will hear my song

eventually.

 

 

Thanks for reading
Follow this link for more.
https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff

 
You can find my New books
"Tales from the 44A" and "Stations
here
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DBKXPN13/
and here

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0DFV8N7XH

 

Please buy a copy if you can

it would really help me
continue to do this.

Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle