Comatose

 I feel numb
I feel comatose
The world around me
Continues  to spin
But I stand in one place

If not for the gift of poetry
My mind would empty
Spiders
Would crawl
Down my spine
Laying eggs in the core
I feel like a bee without its stinger
I write words that flow out my mind
Into the black ocean of my pen
Whispers crawl between my eyes
As they tell me
Things will be okay
Loneliness inches down the back of my neck
Parasite
Burn with cigarette
           Wondering nomad
     Traveling the desert
Of my tragic mind
The poet lends a guiding star
If only I could breath
Fresh air for a little longer
As I walk this comatose life
I make my own destiny with my pen
In this comatose world
I am the joker
     The king
           And the thief
In between the steps
To my temple
And the steps that lead to my death
Lies my true self
Mouth is weak
But my pen is strong