The String
I rather like this one.
There is a string drawn between point A and point B and I’ll clarify
Pulled taute one only assumes it would break if under pressure any longer
Yet what I thought would grow weaker, only grew stronger
And it keeps me silent and still just so for now
And why does this fill me with such warm dread?
Wishing proof from a welcome threat that cannot anyhow
I’ve from this wound of introspection long bled
Running down until it turns the skin and ground, red
Congealed it grows back up and and holds me down.
I’ve grown sane with an N at its mouth
A northern star thats constantly looking south
Which is why I seem to want it always near
Give me more and Ill lie if I said that didnt fill me with fear
Do I and should I simply disappear?
Or push harder to understand why I feel the way I do?
But I cannot help I dismay and yet revel at what madness would ensue.
For this string that Ive snapped many a time, always spins itself anew.
—C.R.Stanger
Copyright-2018
Ah...this time really made some different stuff for me...I welcomed a difference in my writing.
I'm sorta proud of that grown sane with a N at it's mouth..hehehehe...insane...I had to tell everyone again for some reason...
