circles
I counted sheep until there were no more to count, they remain at a distance now sleeping as my mind races in circles or actually and probably my body races in circles and my mind just follows or tries to play catch up to the damage that has been done so deep, so internal.
I think about finalities, a final game, a final season, a final goodbye but finalities one after another after the other continue to spin loud then soft and then loud again by that little voice that only I can here. I beg it to stop, tell it to stop, pretend it has stopped and it continues. Topic after topic and thought after thought leading me to nowhere, sleepless and exhausted from the spinning of the circles that continue in a pattern of sorts on a canvas that is larger than my life and the lives of those around me and around those who might happen to read my thoughts.
And they are thoughts and I tell the thoughts to go away and the circles get bolder in color and deeper in texture and the tone of that voice I here deepens and dissipates at once, like a child that lay motionless and toxic from a night of binge drinking, helpless and afraid.
I hear of the pain and I feel the pain and the circle reminds me again about the pain all while that voice tells the pain and the thoughts to go away. I think of a glass of water and can feel the taste on my tongue, soothing through my throat, no choking and I tell my arm to reach for the glass of water needed and my arm remains still. My eyes open, I see the glass and the condensation formed on the outside and my arm remains still.
My breath labored from a marathon I never ran, but a marathon of thoughts that remain continuous and over and over again and until I know not when, hoping my body decides to absorb the medication it has been fed to relax so that sooner than later I can savor the feeling of the water and shut my eyes without fear and worry and know that there will be something other than thoughts to focus my attention on at daylight.
I wait for a singing bird or a gust of north wind out the window of the room where I sleep and wonder how many other people are awake and subconsciously giving their thoughts, mindless and uncontrollable thoughts, the ability to fester and grow in circles and continue for a count of over one hundred and two minutes as the tick and the tock is heard from one ear and to the other while the clock, a circle shaped clock becomes another prop in my thoughts.
I think about finalities, a final game, a final season, a final goodbye but finalities one after another after the other continue to spin loud then soft and then loud again by that little voice that only I can here. I beg it to stop, tell it to stop, pretend it has stopped and it continues. Topic after topic and thought after thought leading me to nowhere, sleepless and exhausted from the spinning of the circles that continue in a pattern of sorts on a canvas that is larger than my life and the lives of those around me and around those who might happen to read my thoughts.
And they are thoughts and I tell the thoughts to go away and the circles get bolder in color and deeper in texture and the tone of that voice I here deepens and dissipates at once, like a child that lay motionless and toxic from a night of binge drinking, helpless and afraid.
I hear of the pain and I feel the pain and the circle reminds me again about the pain all while that voice tells the pain and the thoughts to go away. I think of a glass of water and can feel the taste on my tongue, soothing through my throat, no choking and I tell my arm to reach for the glass of water needed and my arm remains still. My eyes open, I see the glass and the condensation formed on the outside and my arm remains still.
My breath labored from a marathon I never ran, but a marathon of thoughts that remain continuous and over and over again and until I know not when, hoping my body decides to absorb the medication it has been fed to relax so that sooner than later I can savor the feeling of the water and shut my eyes without fear and worry and know that there will be something other than thoughts to focus my attention on at daylight.
I wait for a singing bird or a gust of north wind out the window of the room where I sleep and wonder how many other people are awake and subconsciously giving their thoughts, mindless and uncontrollable thoughts, the ability to fester and grow in circles and continue for a count of over one hundred and two minutes as the tick and the tock is heard from one ear and to the other while the clock, a circle shaped clock becomes another prop in my thoughts.
posted by the warrior at 2:41 AM
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