Short Grasping At Straws Poems

Grasping at straws
In hopes to cope
Collecting flaws
A heavy cloak

One by one
She picks apart
Goals, undone
Bleeding heart

A homely sight
She has become
Though options bright
She’s come undone...

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Leaves me breathless, back against a wall
Mind grasping at straws, paper in hand
Slide to the floor, time seems to stall
Heart crying I don't understand
Room puddles and spins, I fall
Final heartbeat on demand

Chest heaving as I fight
Crumpled on the cold floor
Ink scratches on white
What this pain is for
Tears blurring sight
I can't take more

Silent cry
Cannot give
Why die
Relive
Why
Live?...

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you piece together
the broken shards
but cut yourself
on the secured heart

quickly it all slips
grasping at straws
not enough time
forgotten fatal flaws

smoke clears away
circus mirror refracts
the image not clear
when you look back

sleight of hand failed
magician bag of tricks
illusion that forsakes
mortality too quick

your destiny fools
thought it was tied down
paradise lost
free falling to the ground...

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The tyrants psyche is broken.
He sits in his gilded palace
Surrounded by his trusty band
Of armed thuggish cutthroats, waiting
For the inevitable end.
Outside the palace walls a crowd
Of angry, loathing citizens
Whose long suppressed voices bellow
An immediate regime change;
But like most tyrants of the past
Ego and self-aggrandizement
Deludes clear, rational thinking;
As a result, grasping at straws
Hoping for the impossible....

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Suddenly,
Heartbeat trumpeting in my throat,
Her presence,
It does that to me, sometimes,
I force myself to
To neutrality, absurdity, mask,
We talk,
I remain, the elephant in the room,
I talk,
No one mentions that I am the elephant in the room,
I remain,
Iron cored neutrality,
Masked girl,
Forever masquerade,
Questions set me grasping for straws at the end,
Each day,
Best friends, always,
My heart still beating in its cage....

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So strange you can take it - 
do you really not mind?
A day of light, dancing,
then the darkness will bind.

Content, so you claim,
with the span of one breath,
a twinkle of twilight 
in the cold eye of death.

Fool, backwards savage!
'tis me in your eyes,
always grasping at straws, 
and feeding on lies.

Somehow, you still stand
in the barrens I despair. 
Some days, I would join you,
but it's cold out there ...

9 November 2018...

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