r/OCPoetry•7 yr. ago

Sun and Salt

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What are my thoughts, but poisonous ones

Hell bent on scratching and ruining my fun.

They haunt me all day and sleep on my face at night

So they can be stirred straight-away when the timing is right.

I'll stop reaching out, and I'll stop reaching in

And pulling out thoughts like needles from skin.

I try to be calm, but this actually fills me with fear

That my mind is in fact empty of some positive cheer

If there is nothing there, but words that i hate

And that hate me

How can an imprisoned brain ever run free?

I have sat on the gailor, I have thrown him the key

I tut as it tarries, as I wait to be me.

But my brain lacks the legs to leap over the gate

Atrophied, It's calf muscles are but a speck on a plate.

What can I do, I think the gate is just me

An impenetrable boundary my brain cannot flee.

My thoughts poisoned me, and now I poison them

I kill all the soft ones, petals plucked from my stem.

I clipped all the leaves that faced towards the sun

My growing now is all about done

I will more leaves and I will more flowers

But surrounded by thorns they fear leaving their bowers.

I’ve razed the thorns to the ground, as low as they'd go

They pricked and pitted my skin as their exiting-show.

Where are my petals, where is my stem?

A scaffold for growing on is needed by them.

Where is my sepal, and my inner shell

To push through the dirt and begin raising some hell?

I hope I have seeds, I hope for fruit from this toil

I hope upon hope I haven't salted my soil.

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Posted Nov 19, 2018, 12:10 PM UTC · edited