deepundergroundpoetry.com
I speak
I speak.
I say just a few words out loud so I can remember the sound.
The noise my voice makes.
It's been days in this same place and what I thought was sweet solace has become tinged with something else.
Malice? This overbearing sense of myself?
The brain stutters, I've forgot my point. Or the point.
I take the medication at 12 o clock on the dot, if I want to or not I still do.
I'm told it's the glue that will make the pieces hold together, but what if there are no pieces?
What if that part is in everyone else but in me does not exist?
Am I even here?
I can't be sure, but I stare at the door. And wait.
I say just a few words out loud so I can remember the sound.
The noise my voice makes.
It's been days in this same place and what I thought was sweet solace has become tinged with something else.
Malice? This overbearing sense of myself?
The brain stutters, I've forgot my point. Or the point.
I take the medication at 12 o clock on the dot, if I want to or not I still do.
I'm told it's the glue that will make the pieces hold together, but what if there are no pieces?
What if that part is in everyone else but in me does not exist?
Am I even here?
I can't be sure, but I stare at the door. And wait.
Published 15th Mar 2018
Author's Note
Realised that when i write normally it is in third person, as a way of detaching from the material, so purposely didn't for this. It's too real.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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24th Mar 2018 5:51pm
