E Nigma

~the Machinist's Memory~ - Poem by E Nigma

Sleep alludes me, I'm moody
The news reporter speaks right to me
I'm my own catatonic muse
Sit in silence, cope with the truth

The last few days felt like years
Bound to a dead man, I fear
This bodies succumb
To a comfortable numb mess

I retrace my steps the journey's long
The right I've done to undo the wrong
Hell on earths where I belong
I shun the thoughts of what I've done

The doorbell rings, my heart is rung
I breathe in deep, my legs are gone
I move to see who's standing there
Crawling past myself along the stairs

I advance to where I stood and stare
Through a peephole I see a mirror
Nightmarish being that beckons me
Terror sings dark melodies

I hear another knock aloud
A whisper turns into a shout
I beg them please to let me be
Their tone grows coarse, I feel remorse

I opened up my door today
I saved my hinges from the strain
The pain I welcome, yes, it's real
My wrists assure me as they greet cold steel

Topic(s) of this poem: thinking

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, March 7, 2015

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