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The Deep Pulls at Me

Safe and Fake

By Paul StewartPublished 4 months ago • 1 min read
Marine met kielzog, Léon Spilliaert, collection: Mu.ZEE Oostende, K000431

It's quite possible I'm in crisis

On high alert internally

Non combustible but

The precipice lies

Beneath my heavy body.

Forever after.

Forever never.

Long the night long the night.

I wait for their return. My

Long I wait. In hope swift return.

slept a long time beneath the surface..beneath the thin veneer of human skin and pretense.

Well I say sleep in a relative sense

In a restful daze

It's quite possible I'm in crisis

Scared I am not so much

concerned the mist will never clear and I will never be free but I think that might be the price we pay to be alive to be loved and to give love to be more than just an island

As Ruth preps her nails and gets ready for her hair appointment, I sit listening to Underworld. Letting the swirling synth lines and fragmented lyrics notes fold in and out

Today has been a day of introspection quietly

Even my shower was filled with quotes and misquotes thoughts and scraps of mental notepads

With lotion applications and

tight nail polish to open

I an not about to fall deeper

But the deep pulls at me

My feet slip just a little but they will dry soon

A little slip that reminds me I am alive and a life

Beyond the thick fog

That feels safe and fake

Stream of Consciousnessheartbreaksad poetrysocial commentarysurreal poetryperformance poetryMental Health

About the Creator

Paul Stewart

Award-Winning Writer, Poet, Scottish-Italian, Subversive.

The Accidental Poet - Poetry Collection out now!

Streams and Scratches in My Mind coming soon!

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    Written by Paul Stewart