- Books, Literature, and Writing
Walking into the furnace
Into the furnace
Always feels like some ones standing behind me, I turn to look, no ones there!!! How can that be? I mean, I could feel their breath against the nape of my neck.
I always knew that I was being followed! I could hear the foot steps, the clatter of foot steps behind me on my walks home.
It's funny how I can always remember walking home! but I can't recall getting home?.
I know they're talking about me!! I hear them when I try to sleep, during work, in the bathroom, everywhere I try to sneak.
Their voices echo through my head, like the wind passes through a hollow tree stump, dead.
Mom and dad are not around, while I floated, I left them standing on the ground.
It's funny how in the blank of an eye, people you have been with all your life, take on a certain UN-familiarity.
It always feels like I'm being watched, something feels like it's been botched!!.
I see no Angels, I see no open field to roam, I see no virgins to feed false pleasure, to whom do I owe these darkest measures?.
If I'm in heaven! why is it so hot?
If I'm in hell why is it so cold?
There is no one around to hear me speaking, yet the boards upon the floor are crrreeking, the boards above my head are leaking, the voices in my mind still speaking, the foul odor of filth is reeking, tear drops out my eye's start leaking, then all just go's silent, dark, a pain inflicts my very heart, in the distance I think a dog just barked? I think I heard a car just start?.
I awake this daydream drawing, a world apart that just keeps falling, into an empty void of dark, to end, to finish, then re-start.