The Slip
Inside my head
imagine small,
Lilliput like,
snakes and ladders,
webs and fear of their creators.
Quivering thoughts
thinking,
over thinking,
like someone's moved the furniture,
strange,
the feeling of
belonging gone.
Slipping on a thought
sliding into fear
on desolation row
where lifers mock
to join them,
I teeter.
Ruthless and restless,
persistence knocks,
hammers,
I have to sit it out,
then try
to snatch
my mind back.
Poetry by shells
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Written on 2016-06-03 at 01:12
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Jamsbo Rockda |
one trick pony |
Lawrence Beck |
Texts |
by shellsLatest textsReflectionFall and Rise Silent Self Unsettled Taking Control |
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