Run

With dreaming legs.

Ablaze, I woke-my gears slow-grinding

Ear-pained creaks tread rust and binding.

Hollowing, is my porous home-

That tries to sponge my messy soul.

 

Suffocating sheets dropped in ribbons to the floor,

and seemed to stretch for miles or more.

My feet tripped up the melting boards,

The heat kicked up and stung my core.

Reviews

[Priya]

Though I seem to have difficulty in grasping the true meaning of this poem, I have no doubt about its quality. Your vocabulary is very good, indeed. It is hard to find poets with a style that involves the use of uncommon words :)

[Robin]

surreal and dreamy , your words cling like tendrils reaching from the subconscious ...