A run-on sentence aka…..my mind.

Nobody: “Whatcha thinkin’ bout, Steph?”

Me:

I can’t pin it
exactly
when I became so lame
but I didn’t know I had the keys to this
and I really can’t blame
anybody
for these silent wars
that are waged
between my brain
in the crevices
my synapses
focus more on staying sane while
they snap back and forth
repeating words
I haven’t said staring
closely at the past and
questioning myself I tread repeating
nothing’s owed to me and people
won’t extend a hand but now
my fingers intertwine with minds that wander near to death where they tell me they’re nowhere but still
trapped inside the heads of
the ones they hear who
suffer in silence they
bleed through the ink
and spread
into certain places on
the paper like…..

violently lovely bloodshed….

transforming broken words
to pages then to books
and then to bricks and then
building up a castle by
binding shavings of
branches and twigs
that point up
to the sky and with me
try to reason
but I’m searching for
the light, something
blinding to try to creep into to zone back into reality to know I’m
still alive
writing in this notebook
are these Witches of mine
telling me to slow down simply
fall into line… into an
infinite nothing sealed by
fragments of time….
shook its hand with a “Steph”
my signature in red
Falling into my eternity a
blissful sleep
with the dead
I’ll lay myself down
Years alone in this bed….
But then..
I hear my voice say,

No, Follow me instead.

Do not listen to your fears,

to what our witches said..

Do not go yet,

but…

follow
me
instead.

Now repeat it all in one breath. 😛✌

25 Replies to “My Witches”

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