Hollow Thoughts

These speeches tingle
in their evanescence,
their spiritual ability
to transcend
what I thought
could be real.
This truth
sticks out its tongue
and stirs my inner chaos
with its mocking laughter,
its broken rhythms,
and I wonder
if I’m the only one who hears
 
The soft squabbles
that live in the space
between my ears beckon me
to hearken further,
to heed carefully their warnings,
to listen to their advice
lest I become the victim
of indecision,
of apathy,
of the antithesis of growth
 
I succumb
to their ugly stares,
their wicked glances
and belligerent tirades
of silent contempt.
I do not listen
yet follow each breath,
every word whispered
in the attic I call a mind,
with its hidden drawers
of rules and memories
mixed up
until I can’t see
which road to choose
 
And although I tire
of the charade,
the empty threats of my
hollow thoughts,
I sit helplessly with
my head against the wall
and wonder what I would
do without the incalculable
whispers that plague my mind,
the ones that enter
my temple without permission
yet leave me with some sense
of purpose,
however bleak and desperate
that may be

 

Christopher Rupley and Patience 2015

(This is a collaborative poetic effort between myself, and the beautifully talented Patience. She is a great writer, and a splendid person. Please do yourself a favor and check out her blog by clicking the link above).

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