Thoughts are born and reproduced throughout your jumbled mind
Constant thoughts, constant memories
Memories you don’t remember making
Today is a blur, yesterday too
The day before is of nothingness
Life keeps going but I am standing still
I am stuck in my mind trying to escape the constant bickering voices
I’m tired
I can’t move any more
I stay awake night and day, exhausted but unable to sleep
No emotions come to me
Nothing provokes or excites me
I can’t feel anything
I am numb
Numb to the touch of others warmth
I lay down on a comforting cloud
Poisonous thoughts running through my veins
I close my eyes in hopes of any form sleep
Finally
I get my peace
Lasting for eternity
About the Creator
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More stories from Taylor Heronemus and writers in Poets and other communities.
Changing
Chapter 1: I hear the sounds of my feet hitting the ground in a rapid pace. I’m running, I’m trying to get away. I feel the panic in me worsening, he’s fast, too fast. As I’m running through the darkened woods I beg for mercy and hope I don’t stumble over my feet. One moment of hesitation and he’ll get me. I plead to myself, I’m too young to die, please, I’m only 17. I hear nothing, quietness, I look back and notice he’s gone. Relief comes over me as I’m about to stop running, then my body slams into what felt like a wall. It was him. He’s got me, and he grabs his knife and slams it into my side, then chest, with no sign of ever stopping.
By Taylor Heronemus5 years ago in Families
Winter Up High
Upon the North, where winter holds its sway, The frigid nights descend with solemn grace, A silent, diamond dust along the way, And moonbeams carve the shadows of the place. The wind, a ghost that whispers through the pines, Doth chill the very breath that leaves the lip, The ground is bound by frosted, silver lines, And stars, like scattered jewels, their vigil keep. The long dark hours demand a sheltered rest, Where firelight dances on the hearth's warm stones, And weary souls are welcomed to the nest, To chase the biting cold from blood and bones. Yet in this chill, a stark, pure beauty lies, Reflected in the vast and endless skies.
By Vinn Blacka day ago in Poets
Rachel Reviews: The Spiral Archive by Pieter Hendrik
It's difficult for me to know where to start with a review of this book as it was, for me, an entirely unique experience and one that I'll probably never have again. I don't want that to be interpreted as unenjoyable but it has left me scratching my head a little and ruminating on its content, its themes and its characters.
By Rachel Deeming4 days ago in BookClub
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