Grind

100621cyborg

The me that you know
smiles and laughs
when deep inside
she feels nothing

tick tick tick

The me that you know
functions through life
when deep within
she’s falling apart

screech

The me that you know
fights every day
through a pain
most cannot fathom

grind

The me that you know
has become a machine
because it’s the only way
she can survive

thump-thump thump-thump thump—

human_machine_by_miiiiirellaaaaaaaaaa-d4jps9l

© 2015 Jinxie G

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2 thoughts on “Grind

  1. I relate completely, Jinxie. As of Feb 8, 2014 I am functioning to tie up loose ends before I get out of here. When every single thing I’ve ever created, collected because it was really special–and then held onto to give to others, or been given as a gift–not to mention all my everyday items for the business and home, which was in storage between permanent residences–was auctioned off, I have ceased to live. My soul was auctioned off that day. 400 sq ft packed of preciousness since I was a baby. All the art I’ve ever created, thousands of photographs. thump thump…thump thump…thump

    Superb poetry, Jinxie, and I love the eye.

    • Hey Chaz, the beauty of this poem is that it is where I was two years ago. I’ve moved past that now. I feel again. You will too, if you allow yourself. =)

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