(I seldom post poems on here these days, but I miss writing long-form poems that I don’t feel fit my Instagram, so along with my reviews, I’m going to start posting more poems here so keep an eye out.)
There is a name for this kind of feeling but it eludes my tongue.
It is the kind to blow silent winds underneath greying hairs; the kind to massage the knotted muscles of a working body.
It is also everything that is the opposite; the aching pond inside your chest that has no fish or wildlife to glance at and feed and say “aren’t they sweet?”
It is the broken planet in a drunken universe that walks around like a zombie with no hangover drug to kill its stupor.
It is every contradiction and side effect of living possible.
On days like this, when even the birds are too tired to sing and the sun is out but hardly anyone leaves their houses, I feed the unnamed feeling.
I sit and sing and laugh and dance as it cuddles me for warmth, and I remember the joy of being a child running in a park and smiling at the pigeons as they scattered from me. I remember the relief of hearing the words “I love you” said from beautiful lips, so gently and so genuinely it healed every wound that existed. I remember every sweet embrace that locked love in place.
All these memories flash like a light show of my life; the highlight of a strange timeline.
And just as the performance lifts my mood, so too with speed comes the rapid crash. Every dumb thought enters the cranium that was previously so joyous. The darkest cloud that does not know what to do with such happiness; it smokes out the room.
Traumatic scenes that replay like a broken tape in some battered VHS player on full volume. Moments I wish I could delete like the I-love-you’s I could never quite hear to hear. Moments like the embraces that crushed my back until I winced under some inexplicable suffocation. Moments that took my hand as if to lead me to greener grasses, and instead threw me off the cliffs of Dover.
What a strange thing; this most unnameable feeling that frustrates me not to name it. Both my happiest and my darkest day living together like a bickering couple fighting for custody of my mind. What a most fascinating feeling; to lay amongst such expression of fear and enamour and watch as I wait to see who wins the title.
If only I could find a name for the damn thing.
(If you liked this, you might also like some of the shorter poems in my debut poetry collection Whispers to the World which you can find in paperback and e-book from Amazon)