• allbymyself 77w

    30 letters, half of which
    won't even make it to the page
    the rest were written in a daze
    moments of blinding clarity
    interspersed with a stupor that
    mostly hangs back in the shadows
    but refuses to leave you alone.

    The light is blinded by a mist
    which cloaks the surrounding air
    the footsteps move after the other
    nobody can see, yet they forge
    ahead, holding steadfast to faith
    you walk at the very edge, just
    taking care to stay on the right
    side of nothingness; hope, faint
    receeding hope flickering away.

    They follow, they always do
    but if you were to question them
    they wouldn't be able to tell
    they wouldn't be able to tell you why
    hand them a pen, give them words
    and yet they won't be able to write.

    15 letters in a hand you wouldn't
    now be able to recognize, words
    written from a bygone age, and yet
    two decades down the line
    it is those which burn brightest
    the truest poems are unedited
    your thoughts spiralling out of
    control, the wildest mess somehow
    dresses itself into the calmest art.

    - Avitaj

    @dopamine @thegreymetaphor @raika_

    Picture credit- Gontran Isnard

    Je Ne Sais Quoi is French for "I do not know", an indescribable quality

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    Je Ne Sais Quoi

    The wildest mess somehow dresses itself into the calmest art.