Poésie

[nourelein]

My bed is the rough water of worry
I try not to just know but to feel my breathing
like fine flour in my hands
I try to achieve neutral bouyancy
far downward enough not to feel the turbulent seas above
but all I can see is stop-motion waves
I push and pull
a top-heavy undertow
and I wonder
Can one go mad in one's sleep?

This has been in my head for

Comments

[gateandgarden]

I like it!

[nourelein]

Yay!

[pygmywombat]

I really like the lines about feeling breathing like fine flour.

Poetry readings or reading poetry gets me writing, too!

[nourelein]

Thanks. I like the four bit best too. As odd as it sounds, it was the only description that made sense. I'm not sure why lj made the word "above" it's own line but I'm not sure how to change it.

[nourelein]

*flour*