Thinking gets old.

Posted at: 5:23 am
Filed under : Fiction, Life, Nonsense, Poetry


I think the ropes you tied my hands in are making them bleed. I think the pressure and intensity isn’t helping. I think the knots you keep tying are cutting my blood circulation. I think I’m acutely confused. And, I think your words aren’t helping. I need you to stop thinking. You don’t hold onto words – I do.

Im pretty and you title me blue.
I can’t hear a single thing – anything was what I needed to hear.

Again we begin,

I think the band aide you placed on my skin is ripping. I think I’m still hurting. Don’t touch me. I think I’m trying to heal a wound, and I’m healing. I cant help myself. I’m not myself anymore. I think I’m in need of something more. I think we need to start thinking. And, I think it never gets old.
I cant feel a single thing – anything was what I needed to feel.

I think the blindfolds you placed on my eyes are see through. I think my eyes see through you. I think I need to stop blinking. And, I think I cant see anymore. I’m in the dark, and I keep thinking. I think if your words were helping, I think I would stop thinking.
Lets start.
Here you go.
I hear nothing.
I’m not blue anymore.

I’m only smiling.

2 Responses so far

  1. 1

    neoark25 said,

    December 14, 2008 @ 8:24 am

    so you write poems like me :p

  2. 2

    your battlefield said,

    December 15, 2008 @ 6:23 pm

    hehe i guess i do 🙂

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