The taste of these days
Is ice on my tongue.
I swallow the melting pieces
My neck feeling numb.
Chills run down my spine
Pins and needles
Prick my fingertips.
An ache spreads from my jaw to my head
All across the bowl of my brain.
Tiny fishes shiver in the cold waves
That has entered the mindspace
Drifting, drifting away
To a particular thought that’s bleeding me-
What will be?
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~insight07
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Copyright ©Devika Todi. All rights reserved.
insight07's blog 
Nice post. Keep it up 👍
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Thank you Aman! 😊
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Beautiful…I’am glad to follow your blog🙏🏻✍🏻
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Thank you so much Athira! I am glad you connect well with the pieces. 😊
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Most welcome🙏🏻
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Excellent photo. A small window in an expanding universe.
Fantastic poem. Your lines
“Tiny fishes shiver in the cold waves
That has entered the mindspace”
Brings to mind “The tiny purple fishes run laughing through your fingers And you want to take her with you to the hard land of the winter” from Tales of Brave Ulysses by Cream.
“To a particular thought that’s bleeding me- ”
Brings to mind Charle’s Wesley, brother of John Wesley. They started the Methodist Church. Charles was sickly and they bled him a lot as part of his treatments, common in the 1700s. It’s a wonder he lived as long as he did.
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That’s quite graphic! I never made such connections to other existing literature. Thank you for sharing this 😊
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Excellent lines!! This was so beautiful to read!!👌🏻
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Thank you, Jahnavi! 😊
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