madness
MADNESS
Little white threads of my sanity
Are floating reluctantly to the ground…
From up high in the sky of my mind
….I hear them drop…silent and fast
Clear little bubbles of logic…
Foaming from a murky puddle normalcy
A puddle once a clear blue sea
…I hear it drying up….silent and fast
I saw a dead rat by the road tonight
I knelt down and kissed it and laughed
I have been courted by darkness…
Masquerading as light…with a polka –dots tie
we danced all night…in the morning …
a century had gone by.
I looked at him with water in my eyes
He kissed me and disappeared into my mouth
His abode is my mind now…he abhors the light
So he threw a black veil across my eyes.
So you see…..I am gradually going mad.
“I have loved to the point of madness; that which is called madness, that which to me, is the only sensible way to love.” — Francois Sagan
Thank you for the compliment… no, I am hardly a “professional” I wish I could write more like this because your poem is inspiring: How sweet is my madness, that it has reshaped the design of my heart… or is it simply the art of suffering.
I’m just moody.