the answer lies, i’m led to believe
somewhere between us
the dreams and the scars
you can’t really wish upon the moon
but you can upon the stars
it’s that all too familiar feeling
there’s hurt and then there’s pain
it’s not the same but i'm reeling
and it’s on, repeat; again
it’s that fist to the gut
just as you get up
a sneaky rabbit punch
and then a quick uppercut
a knee to the face
now there are the stars,
it’s somewhere between them
the dreams and the scars
it’s not the same behind the light
it’s not the same choking darkness
a banquet of shrieks and shrouds and shades
a never ending feast of starkness
somewhere between heart and soul
somewhere between thought and chatter
somewhere inside the sum of the whole
somewhere between mind and matter
the scars on my body
show of my passage through time
and the dreams i hold dear
bring peace to my mind
it’s in the never ending nights
that the current of madness runs deep
it sinuously coils upon eddy’s of itself
and waits for me to fall asleep
i feel its breath upon my neck
it’s seductive voice soft in my ear
gripped by everything i’ve ever known
and plagued by a nagging fear
somewhere between fact and faith
somewhere between here and now
somewhere between heaven and hell
somewhere between when and how
this madness is now as close
as the reality is as far
it’s not the same distance
from between this
the dream and the scar
About the Creator
Brenton F
It's just a token of my extreme - Frank Zappa
- - -
I have an eBook, a collection of my favourite pieces
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Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
making space
Since the only thing that might pull us back up is caring, it only makes sense that here, long after I’ve let my anger born of heartbreak and grief misplace, multiply, misdirect itself, let the enormity of my solitude turn into something I don’t know how to dispute with, something thick and heavy and suffocating, let the coldness thrash and fight under my skin, deeper still, in between the arches of my organs; here where the ground is always close and the fall is easy and I surrender to it often, lie without purpose for hours, it only makes sense that it is here, I decide to show up and surrender to the possibilities of the night. Show up to those who I deserted. Drawn to the sense of accomplishment, something I haven’t felt in a while, to memory of finished dish sending its aroma into the world and with it, wrapping the room with a strong sense of sweet nostalgia, I get up and decide to cook. I pick up my phone, type a message that reads “Dinner at mine @ 8PM, don’t bring anything” and before my courage deserts me again, drop it in our friends’ group chat, the way one would do when diffusing a bomb in the movies: one eye closed, snip at the wire, hoping for the best.
By Mesh Toraskar2 days ago in Feast
Comments (4)
“ knee to the face now there are the stars,” pain do let us see stars . Well executed poem
Somehow this felt very relatable. Loved your poem!
Cool work 😎- love some of the dark humour throughout! Did you mean the repetition of thing after everything about halfway through.. 😁👍
Wow, what an amazing poem. Very heavy but absolutely beautiful!