I feel wide open
vulnerability washes over me
I lay out my mind
on this walkway, so trampled.
Fellow adventurers of this path
stop to admire the intrepid gizmos,
turning and gearing
thought process clear as fog.
Gnashing my ears,
the ideas threaten my life.
I must pour it out,
drain myself of my myself.
Writing and loathing,
my pieces of work seem to flood.
Radical movements of the enemy,
by enemy I mean the mind.
pain cradles me as a small child.
The pain of intelligence.
The pain of realization.
A quick wit,
and an arsenal of complex words,
can render any foe to his knees.
I am your foe.
| I can understand this poem down to the core. It is wicked and intelligent. All to many times our type of mind is washed over as darkness and lackluster, but we know how our mind works and I believe you displayed this out greatly.|
|| Posted on 2009-08-19 00:00:00 | by HisNameIsNoMore | [ Reply to This ] |