Madness-
everyone said;
“Don't worry,
you're not going mad”,
but I was.
Losing the plot-
not sleeping for days-
chaos unfolds,
like tangled bedsheets
after endless, restless nights-
tossing, turning,
it smells like smoke,
burning holes
in my fabric of reality.
We no longer share
the same-
mine: messy,
smoke-filled,
bergamot,
Earl Grey-
endless cups,
cigarettes.
My world fell apart-
I call,
dump my grief
on them.
Midnight walks-
hooting owls,
shadows stretching.
I try to be strong-
bear the burden-
deny-
suggest-
it’s all wrong-
my mind-
a reckless driver-
speeding towards the edge.
Imagine the car-
on my bed-
driving myself off-
a crash-
to the floor.
Maybe-
when I spoke to Jesus,
or their earthly voice-
they called the ambulance,
or-
they just listened.
Without you I tumble
did you hear my prayer?
Or do I speak into a void
my voice swallowed?
Watching me spiral-
unravelling-
a chaotic whisper.
Wondering-
will I ever stop
this fall?
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I always love your poems. This one has me falling too.
How often have I felt exactly this!
Thank you for all your support. Good to hear your voice
I admire the way you've cracked this poem open with raw, disjointed energy that perfectly mirrors the decent you're actually describing.
The smoky imagery and fragmented thoughts pull me into your chaos, making me feel the restless nights, the cough, the shadow—like I'm falling alongside you, unable to look away.
This is really an amazing piece @saltycat. Thanks for sharing.
My warm regards.😊
Thank you so much for your comment, it made me feel all warm inside. :)