Unconscious ramblings
I cannot be still, I haveto flick and pick,
race from place to place
an itch in my fingers
and dread in my heart,
I am restless
like a wave on the shore
my emotions frothing
bubbles on the surface
of life, so that I will not sink
lose the link of being me,
fighting, scribling
etching these last throws
of life in jaunty waves,
undulating arms
hitting through the surface
of the maelstrom sea,
battling the tides
flinging the seaweed
as cutting through
I have to move, be.
I am a whirling dervish
a banshee of the mind,
racing, pacing and if
I move fast enough
I can avoid facing
the stillness that will
one day encompass
all that was, could have been
the aching poltergeist
that throws pots and pans
in to that blacked out space,
I am without grace
I cannot be still.
Poetry by Elle
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Written on 2018-08-07 at 12:33
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