Thought Catalog
May 11, 2017

Sometimes, When I Think About The World

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What is the issue?
Paul Gilmore

Sometimes
I’ll walk outside
and be smacked in the face
by the sheer weight
of the world.

I feel each blade of grass
as it crumples beneath my feet,
see each leaf floating dead in the wind,
taste every lie you’ve ever said,
and I am simply blown away.

I watch the people around me sink
and flail and thrash,
and my soul crumples faster
than my poem
in your white knuckled,
sweaty fist.

This air is thick
and heavy
and weighs down upon my shoulders,
making it hard for me to breathe.

I feel each drop of sweat
slide to the end of my nose
and plunge to the ground,
expanding into a puddle,
a byproduct of this mess
we can’t quite clean up.

And I am alone,
yet surrounded;
empty,
but overfilled.

I wonder about my entity,
about the person I’ve become and why.
About God,
and if he’s watching.

And I smile,
because,
knowing myself the way I do,
if I was Eve,
I’d eat the forbidden fruit all over again. TC mark

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