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On A Page, On Ink, I Lived

Losing teeth and breaking bones, I thought, were okay.
But not human emotions, o’, not those human emotions!
No whisky could drown them; you would drown instead.
No amount of smoke could cloud their mass of disaster.

Late nights and sad thoughts were no good combination,
Yet we had cocktails of them, lost sleep and more weight.
Most best friends spoke, most shared thoughts, listened.
Not my anxiety; it was always hide-and-seek with us.

Dark, cold and empty, so looks the earth, late at night;
So feels my heart, all the time, worse at such nights.
I bottled my sadness; it broke out and dived within me,
So long, dejected, this pit takes living souls, o’, how sad.

With long hands sucked of life, I scribbled my heart, fated worse;
With a crowded mind, cold, packed full with emotion, I scribbled.
Maybe dead within, dry as hay, but on a page, I was alive and whole—
I was myself; not much to salvage but surrounded by all that ink…

I was satisfied.

This marks the end of what I had for Poetry Wednesday. You can find today’s five poems here:

Poetry Wednesday: 11/4

If you are not already, then follow my blog for post updates!

See you tomorrow; stay safe, bye.


Categories: Poetry Poetry Wednesday

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Benie Langat

Benson Langat is a poet, fiction writer, and freelancer. A dreamer, he realizes a world of possibilities through stories and explores life in poetry. Benie is a dad and lives in Nairobi, Kenya.

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