The Thinker, the Pursuer
woke up wanting more.
Desires pushed
as I veiled
not to end.. but
a continuation for the defaulter,
who slipped and watched.
Photo by Patrick Hendry on Unsplash
The hand forgets.
The timer counts down.
A disconnect, uncoupled.
The thinker, the pursuer.
nothing waits ahead,
nothing follows,
only the body, continuing
out of refusal,
to end, the same.
HUNGER
Photo by Patrick Hendry on Unsplash
I stay hungry where passion leaves me.
Every time I go through it, I come back different.
When I get to the edge, the numbness sets in.
The headaches. The cage around my head.
Then the cravings kick in.
I eat whatever I see.
No matter how hard I try, how much I show,
I cave in.
The mind plays, and I stand at its order.
What would it do to me if there were nothing?
Nothing to consume.
Nothing to chase.
Nothing to fill.
If hunger is all I am,
what happens when there is nothing left to eat?
Waiting for Their Turn
hollow psyche, pulse that aches
existence a memory
waiting for their turn
1919
Abbott Handerson Thayer 🔗
the ones, given up
why wait —
surrender, just rest a bit
smolder, layer by layer
stranger to the sorrow, the misery
graves scatter, marrow ripens
humble me or take me
a soul, no more
ashes
These are some of the poems I wrote this week. I had to post more than 1 to not trigger the word limit.
I like to write poems but have not found any community to post it in.
Follow me @corpsekaizen