Poetry Blogs (numbness)
Devon Brock on no more the demanding sound of his snapping fingers (1 hour ago)
I'm sitting here, trapped, frozen in time
Head imploding, finally losing my mind
Nowhere to run, bound and confined
To the prison within, my unconscious mind.
Tuesday 19th June 2018 9:48 pm
I feel dead inside
I can no longer hide
For so long I've lied
I promise, I truly tried,
But today is the day that I died.
Monday 18th June 2018 3:19 pm
As the flying crippled limb
and its severed foot connect
the passengers don't notice him
or the windscreens scarlet fleck
Taxis in this city
festoon their grills with flesh
metalled mouths show little pity
bystanders even less
When eighty four evaporate
in ball-bearinged storms of death
its compassion that men subjugate
to steal much more than breath
Thursday 28th July 2016 2:39 pm
Heading from somewhere to nowhere, with uncertain self-control is scary.
Being numb is like being dead. To simply feel nothing, you are or somewhat believe to become nothing. I know this because I'm a victim of it.
I'm also free, I guess, I have no pain or sorrow –although I know what all these emotions feel like, or felt like- but also no happiness or joy. I'm unbreakable, there is nothing ...
Saturday 11th October 2014 4:55 pm