It's blood on my tongue.
Fizzy and full of memories.
I've been stuck in a dream
Where the sky loops,
Grey. Black. Grey. Black.
Grey
Then fucking
Black.
Until it blended into some
Liminal horror graveyard
Where ambition is a sickness.
I am sick,
A thing of color
In a circus of grey.
That makes me a freak,
Something that stands
In front of a mindless audience,
Swallows their laughs,
Evokes their pity.
I am a thing unseen.
A prismatic optical illusion.
I don't exist,
Can't exist.
Not underneath the clouds
And the crowds humiliate me,
String me out,
Paint me like a clown,
And dream of feathering me
Because there is nothing so funny
As the soul
Convinced
That its neon lights matter
In the middle of a circus of grey.
About the Creator
Silver Daux
Shadowed souls, cursed magic, poetry that tangles itself in your soul and yanks out the ugly darkness from within. Maybe there's something broken in me, but it's in you too.
Ah, also:
Tiktok/Insta: harbingerofsnake
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Comments (5)
How beautifully tragic. Several really stunning lines with a lot of emotional weight to them! And the grayness came through as positively stifling. I think I need some air...Well wrought, Silver!
The feathering and the soul thinking it's neon light matters in a circus of grey was so sad. Loved your poem!
...Colour me impressed! "A thing of color/in a circus of grey" Outstanding SD!
Wow, so very, very heavy. Just like Donna said. I wish you bright light and beautiful colors with peaceful dreams.
This is heavy... relatable and painful. Reminds me that dreams/ hope are but a double edged sword -- they can build you up and bring you out of the darkness but also send you back ten times as fast! Well written SD!