A new poem for you! Please do share your thoughts and comments below.
Sometimes I wonder how it feels
To live constantly in the faded painting of reality.
To live only with work, with worry, with pain
To have the primary hues of the every day.
Sometimes I try to untangle the strings
That tether me to the colourful release
Of gardens flourishing vividly in my mind –
And bring myself back to the dark places
To the misted illustration constructed outside my head
And is, disappointingly, still there every time
I wake.
but
I worry, that I have belonged to both artworks for too long
and now, my imaginary world and reality are so closely intertwined
That I can no longer untie the knots with cold hands, grasping
gasping
for the morning air.
they plait themselves together in a melodious haze of brilliant colours
flooding my mind with their intricate design
and dulling the guilt, the fear, the pain
breathing the blackness away,
till reality is a distant memory
where the azure tide flows backwards, and the sea is painted too high
for me to swim in it.
Now, I choose the sand.
Am I naive to think this will last?
To think that a one-stringed future won’t be dulled
by my mind-woven past?
Perhaps –
But still, the strings tangle themselves, too close
To separate with my fingers
And I choke
Trying to bite off the knots with my teeth.
They are wrapped around my neck now, pulling me in
Till the picture named ‘reality’
Grows rather dim…
Perhaps, I think, and now it seems
I will always be painting
in the artwork of dreams.
