There is not a space left to withdraw, For the eyes to draw respite From seemingly cornering stares That seem to hold me tight
Not more intrusive than a sweeping fly That rests to tinker the open savoury A thought just as unambiguously meandering Has it’s presence whisked off Though ultimately tied
All pleasing sighters turn illogically conniving The urge to bask in open harmony now trampled Is pushed to fend in an airless prism of induced agony And the mind falters in design To suit some needs of imminent ignominy
Sensing cringy breaths of people who had liked My steps are the first to withdraw from Harmless assumptions that had got hiked.
A labyrinth of red washed walls, my heart’s anguish to soar above the clouds. As I trace my scars I think of rose petals. Is my body still asking for restitution? Have I not yet paid the price? My pain
Photograph by “Alan Mackenzie” He screamed helplessness and fear, Anger arising in a depth of raw emotion, His exasperating anxiety and despair, This cruel mental decay of Alzheimer’s. Acceptance hung in the desperate air, Petulance always only a breath away,
Will the ghosts ever lie down and rest they rose from the anguish of the soul in an instant of morbid pain and they have kept him haunted. He walks like a zombie trying to escape the wrath they inflict