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Warped

a poem not to be read, only to be breathed

By Moon DesertPublished 11 months ago Updated 11 months ago 1 min read
Photo by Luca Nicoletti on Unsplash

From time to time

a rollercoaster ride;

being on the left side

is no fun.

After a few rounds,

the key to the left side

is lost and found;

waiting to be disguised

by a new witchcraft

entering through my window

at dawn.

A multidimensional soul

playing guitar and screaming into the microphone;

imaging of the brain lost in a fog.

Where is the lake?

Maybe I needed a break.

Who knows?

I know reality is not

my cup of tea

as I prefer real

essential liquid

to soothe

and sleep

through the noise.

Maybe this will quiet things down.

After a storm, the sun shines.

Tell me good stories,

not ghost ones this time.

---

Thank you for reading!

inspirationalMental Healthsurreal poetry

About the Creator

Moon Desert

UK-based

BA in Cultural Studies

Unsplash

Crime Fiction: Love

Poetry: Friend

Psychology: Salvation

I write only because there is a voice within me that will not be still.

Sylvia Plath

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