The bulky mass of white noise
is gently buzzing.
Tightly woven nothingness,
I attempt to unravel with confused fingers.
Under the whirling plastic fan,
I knit a scarf from purple polyester.
Row after row of garter stich
until it’s long enough
to stifle and pad
the aching places,
to mute the openness
and dull the intricacies.
I fill the fluorescent waiting room
with hollow gasps
until there is only space
for ceaseless humming.
is gently buzzing.
Tightly woven nothingness,
I attempt to unravel with confused fingers.
Under the whirling plastic fan,
I knit a scarf from purple polyester.
Row after row of garter stich
until it’s long enough
to stifle and pad
the aching places,
to mute the openness
and dull the intricacies.
I fill the fluorescent waiting room
with hollow gasps
until there is only space
for ceaseless humming.
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gaia_lenox
Oct 20, 2020
this is one of those poems where you don't know exactly what its about but it doesn't matter because you're instantly transported to that place and feeling by your writing its so well done
Gaia Lenox