SurroundedSurroundedSurrounded by Dementium
Life is a trial. It's accepting
there's a knock at the door
and no one's there.
It's strength in the silence of a room
when fabricated chatter invades
any manner of listening.
It's in the stillness
of being incredibly small
while the world looms beyond
the blank-white four-walled cage,
leering in with a locked-iron look.
It's reasoning without the privilege
of cause and effect.
It's entering a cafe --
an intention to shoot
the breeze with old friends,
then a pause -- intuition
heart in a nose-dive,
"no one knows you here."
It's being surrounded.
SempiterneYou are like a bird that sits on my shoulder and pecks at my ear -Sempiterne by SeraAmadis
Right through my ear! -
right through my skull
and into my mind,
and you re-embroider yourself on my cortex, though Ill pull out your stitches again and again
You are like a bird
But, no, you are more. Birds sleep, too, and cannot pester your memory both night and day.
You are like a fallen fruit, that sits beneath the drooping tree and waits for winter -
Growing limp and sour
and brown and wrinkled -
and turning into a sticky, messy mush at the touch of my fingers, though I still tell myself not to entertain thoughts of picking you up again.
You are like a fallen fruit
But, no, you are more. Because a fruit eventually rots away, then it is gone for good
You are like the ocean that stretches endlessly ahead and behind and beneath
To the depths of the trenches -
and to the very tips of the sky,
until I find myself sinking and flailing in your vastness, though I keep tell