Unstiched clouds

 

My head feels like an unstitched

cloud, the fluffy memories falling

out, the threads, loose, start to tangle

in the growing unease that encroaches on me.

 

What used to be a safe space inside,

where I could find my open fields

and run free, letting my words play loud.

Now sits threatening me with its

void-like imitation of who I used to be.

 

Ever-darkening clouds

and rumbling thunder echoes around.

 

The crushing surrender to a sky falling down.

I feel like laying my heart on a slab

Witnessing its final breath as it fades into death.

 

I’m beginning to wonder if my

hope is worth the pain. If the

landscape can take being oversaturated

by more crashing rain, or will it

flow away clogging the drains.

Leaving me slumped in the remains

of a moment, left clinging to the wreckage

of a long-lost daydream.

 

And my head feels like a memory

of a day. A whispered melody

lilting on the breeze,

It fills me with unease

at the way the keys play,

out of tune, warbling

as it strains to lift the mental load.

 

It used to be the sanctuary

inside of me, a temple

where dreams would play,

a place away from the nightmares

born of earlier days.

A shrine to the muse that

shone down on me,

now the light has gone

only darkness left surrounding.

 

And I wander empty fields

trying to find my former belief.

The self I held tightly, now not felt

anywhere around me, and my

night-blind eyes can’t seem to

find a way to locate these lost memories.

 

Maybe if I move the wonders

the mind will move itself

into a better tomorrow,

where the river flows beside me

and the moon glows

brightly to light my way.