Saturday, December 10, 2016

"Pull Over, Please..."

"Pull Over, Please..."
Gained so much more of myself
the day I lost my mind.
Sanity for Levity.
A tradeoff that quite honestly
still weighs on me heavily.
Saw comfort for the ruse it was.
It all once looked heavenly
but those were dreams.
I can't expect complacency
to be more than it seems.

Started as a stream
finding land far from it's lake
where snakes were scarcely found
until drowned by hours counting.
We're mounting but not bothered.
Deaf on the surge of slaughter
grasping near
from our peers
to clasping ears
that would stay here.
Stream is nigh
but not high enough.
Worn our tires rough.
No tread.
I swear this back seat
is the bed
I wish I wouldn't need eventually.
Extensive the pleas surrounding.
The warning signs are blinding.
Sounds that of alarms
but by then,
we'll be confined
and just fine for now.
Stream like lines
that now
have coursed across whole streets.
Thought for sure it would've peaked
by now.

Head tucked deep beneath.
I've truly lost it
somewhere in this sheet.....
.....I feel it slipping away
with each moment gathered to pray
with people I'd only said "hi" to.

Familiar comfort,
You've dropped by to
distract me from my search presumably.
Offered free merch where looters be.
Referred to that perch
as a front porch once.
Flowers wouldn't float much
but this stream merged with the river
to deliver displacement.

I taste fear,
I hear light
and can view behind sounds
all while sitting down.

I Have Lost My Mind.

Can't figure to find words
other than what's heard on the radio.
Really though:

I swore it was just a stream
like a day ago.

They may know
or not
that I've given up on plot
and this corner is what rocks me peacefully.
Sort of found a piece of me.
Hadn't lost it all apparently.

Not yet.

Cool with open windows.
Huddled with eventual widows
and mothers whose children
won't make the trip.
One strong shake will tip
and this boat might capsize
and kill us all.
We don't swim well.
Sun is leaving us.
This won't end well
so for now,
far enough is halfway.

It's been years since then
and I'm still not above it
so instead of inquiring
let's just change the subject.

.....where's my mind....

Harder to find now
than the start of the stream then.
Forced to find time
for this boy among men
to be perceived as such
but seriously, though:
If it isn't too much,

.....where is it.....

Bright enough to burn
but little left of the wick.
Mingled with distraction
but my attention would not stick
and this has gone too far
and this air is getting thick
and I can feel my throat closing...

...can we stop?

I'm getting sick....


Written By: Devin Joseph Metz