Buffeted by the silent scream of my own disquiet,
Tedium stirs in the pit of my stomach,
Running his course through my veins,
Weighing on my heart, consuming my mind.
The binds that restrict me are my own,
The freedom I yearn for is within myself,
I am knocking at locked doors,
Whilst holding all the keys.
Unfamiliarity brings a chill I shy away from,
Comforted by familiarity and illusory safety,
I must force myself out into the cold, to grow,
But I am weary, and hesitant to stand on my own.
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Comments
"I am knocking at locked doors,
Whilst holding all the keys."
Beautifully written. Well done.
--
Serenity in Misanthropy
It feels good, doesn't it?
Love this line: Tedium stirs in the pit of my stomach.
--
"You could convince the grass that it was the moon."
It does feel good, and after reading your journal entries, I feel productive again. Though I do feel confused/lost in what I believe.
--
Pick up your paper, and walk off the edge of the world.
--
"You know who lost World War Z? Whales."
--
Pick up your paper, and walk off the edge of the world.
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