Sharethread November 28, 2018

11/6/2017

Through open windows a conversation is heard. The transactions of language and tone, rhythm and cadence, the way words flow off of your tongue. Unknowing I gravitate, drifting into eternity. The greatest chain reactions always started with just a word. It’s as if something as simple as a thought can be made permanent, as if the only way to remember it is to bury oneself into the idea. Incapable of detachment, the groundwork is laid. The sun rises for the lucky, and sets for the dead. But some say that luck isn’t part of it, with a skull full of lead. The leaves change much like our minds. Slowly, until being put into a bind they fade. The light doesn’t cascade through the breeze like it used to. The roots of the trees are losing their hold. The last remaining sorrows of previous seasons leave impressions of new beginnings. Fruitless, growth is such a fickle thing. Tangible yet intangible, something that cannot be described yet, is often times described all too perfectly. The rigidity of life is all just too frustrating. Much like our light, the sun doesnt shine everyday. The clouds and rain come, taking warmth with them, and withering away.

Frustration that boils over and doesn’t have an end. Friends you thought you knew well, turn into dead ends. Alcohol at the root, the truth comes a flowing. Or is it emotion without filters, with meanings unknowing. Unending feelings the fog can’t be lifted. Without clear guidance it feels like I’m drifting.

It’s crazy how real it feels in a suicide daydream. Like today could be the day that I no longer scream. Internally, I don’t let my feelings show. Until one day when I’m about to blow.

/r/OCPoetry Thread