Late Night Poetry #1

The pendulum swings,
Grey darkness in the hallway –
Remains of the day strewn on the table,
I am the steady pulse of my blood.

My skin is too hot,
My mind too full of everything.
Ears are ringing, in time with the words –
As I try to dig these things from within.

The days narrow into a tunnel,
Become this small moment in time.
Who am I, if not these words, these meanings?
The world carries on its spinning.

Times like this, in the grey darkness,
I fall away from myself –
With the pendulum swinging,
And blood pulsing against unwritten words.

5 thoughts on “Late Night Poetry #1”

Ratika Deshpande August 12, 2016 — 10:29 am

I knew it from the first stanza this was amazing. I’m gonna copy it down in my commonplace book. 🙂

I love this so much, the imagery is unreal!!

So effortlessly precise. I could relate with the feeling of ‘unwritten words’.

5 thoughts on “Late Night Poetry #1”