MY MIND
Poet’s Note: This is a ‘dark’ poem, depicting -in poetic detail- a view of the working of a mentally unstable mind. If this isn’t your proverbial ‘cup of tea,’ then I perfectly understand if you don’t read it. Otherwise enjoy!
Poem – MY MIND
Photo credit: dhester from morguefile.com
My mind- shipwrecked,
gloriously so;
decaying remains of dreams unfulfilled
adorn its recesses,
emanating pungent odors
that flavor the fragile capillaries.
Voices whisper screams
into nerves wound tight
reverberating, echoing,
at the speed of thought.
My mind- an automaton
the framework,
the network- naked;
springs and screws and levers:
coiled springs- wound partly anticlockwise,
blunt screws- digging into pink tissue
holding together ribbons of flesh,
crippled levers- thrashed into submission
and crimson oil dripping,
leaking into scarlet tears.
My mind- a shelf
forgotten flasks adorn it
smothered by thick skins of dust
emotions I bottled up, long ago
in little nuggets
in specific proportions
and different colors.
My mind- an asylum
where sanity decays exponentially
and so does the difference
between sanity-
and the other thing.
My mind- a garden
where little scratches grow
flourish to ugly scars
amid decaying voices,
not unlike me
dressed in gray.
And I mutilate
stabbing and cutting
to scrape off my gray
and check-
if, in my asylum,
I’m the doctor,
or just another patient!
My mind- an empty well
of empty promises
where a scream, an aria,
an unholy aum,
tumbles, resonates,
through bleeding walls
of nervous tissue
stretched, held taut,
and lacerated.
The scream,
through the bleeding cuts
seeps into my fibers
into scarlet flesh,
biting, burning,
till I’m numb.
My mind- constant turbulent weather
jumbled jigsaw juxtaposed mixture
of thoughts, emotions,
alive and otherwise
all alike
all mine.
POET’S NOTE: I do not long for polyglot murmurs of adulation (though I wouldn’t mind them! ;) ) I only want to be heard. So please do leave me a comment below, as a reader (your precious thoughts) or as a fellow writer/poet (critique, mistakes, suggestions…). All criticism, harsh or otherwise, constructive or not, is welcomed, and don’t hesitate to leave me a link of your piece/s (if you do write, of course) in your comment so that I can get back at you. That’s all, for now.
-The Manoj Arora.
