Chelsea Meigs Poems

Walking in the chilling wind
Pondering everything
You turn in circles
And wonder where to begin
...

All around me Darkness rolls
No Light shines through as it unfolds
Just as if the King foretold
A palace of pain and not of gold
...

Secrets. Our most precious belongings
Hidden deep and proected by
Lie
We carry on our normal lives
...

I am the clay in your hand
Shapeless and no good
Form me into a man
Like you said you would
...

Asylum. You are my home
No colour, All white
Insanity around
I do not belong
...

In the corner of my mind
The bindings start to un-wind
And I see there's nothing left to find
Let's just run and hide
...

Leaning over the paper
Every syllable I write
Cuts me deeper and deeper
Turning ink to blood
...

Timw forgotten
Love abandoned
Sit the flower in the jar
Browning, wilting, growing old
...

This fact is not true but somehow every time I look in the mirror it comes rushing back
I look deep into my eyes and I know that they are not mine
They belong to a wicked witch, or a triumphant hero, or a pondering sorcerer from a far away place that does not exist
Maybe they belong to a leather-winged beast, born in the poet's mind and forever tapped on paper
...