It comes on slowly and with little warning.
At first, a twinge of memory or a random inkling of longing.
Then the weight. So heavy and hot and pronounced
It burns like fire, it's arrival announced.
I push it away. I drench it with drink.
I fight my own mind. I resist the think.
Silent screams pound through my head
It’s permanence, its solidity that I dread.
Yet with time it starts to wane.
It becomes a fire I can contain.
Proving yet again, though I often doubt;
There is no fire - I can’t put out.
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