Heavy clouds, like deep bruises, before a storm;
Shadows in your mind where fears and anxieties gather;
An oppressive space beneath the bed where monsters lurk;
The big blackness that frees our inhibitions;
A rich, velvety curtain sprinkled with bright sparkles;
A spiritual void created by chronic illness;
The colour of a mood inspired by loneliness;
A cancerous growth on an otherwise healthy organ;
The claustrophobic grip of a panic attack;
The herald of restful sleep and bodily rejuvenation;
The secret spaces and caverns deep within the earth;
The state of a mind not enlightened by education and knowledge;
The calm and peaceful volumes beneath the breaking waves;
The blight on the skin of an otherwise unmarred fruit;
The muffling blanket of an anaesthetic over conscious thought.
By Robbie Cheadle
Published on
December 13, 2018 09:24
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Tags:
poetry