Doubt Comes at lunchtime.
For thirty minutes
it takes up the space
were food should go.
a persistent climb up
I choke back water.
Keep it down.
Poisonous it seeps into blood
rattles my hands.
rings my drums.
rangles both lungs
Sleep doubt says.
so, heart slows
eyes fall on soft
For thirty years
doubt take up the space
were confidence should have gone.
at this hour.
Will it be kinder
Then the careless way
I have let the last hour go?
I have atrophied in these sheets.
They cling to me,
sweat gathers in sickness
and in health I know nothing but want.
Yet, need lingers in the door
beckons, but does not come forth.
My dreams run rampant like pixies;
they are splashes of imaginary colour ,
no paper can hold them.
Outside the barren tree branches lacked the strength
to hold onto their colourful autumn,
I lack the strength (will) to even manifest a fall,
So, I’ve fallen into a bed of leaves
(which I did not rake)
Please. Decompose this body,
feed the corpse to the worms-
this is the only way I know to celebrate a harvest.
via Daily Prompt: Protest
We will be challenged to speak, but most will remain silent.
We will be challenged to think, some minds will remain quiet.
We will be challenged to feel, many hearts will remain violent.