Just a thought.
That fought.
To be heard.
In a mind, that is blurred.
I grind at the gears.
Of my fears.
When the tears.
Roll down my face.
Space.
And time are lost.
In a frost.
That freezes my heart.
Being void, of emotion is an art.
That starts.
With the pain of loss.
The pain of love.
That never ceases.
Or eases.
And creases.
You in two, as you cry!
As you scream!
And the gleam.
In your eyes.
Dies.
-H
It's similar to stream of consciousness...it's a narrative mode used by James Joyce a lot. It shows the thought processes of the narrator and the brilliant punctuating creates an angry (or is it sad?) staccato rhythm that truly portrays your emotions.
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