A Thought Or Two. Poem by Alex Angelov

Here we are again at the place.

We all know this place well,
we all hate this place,
we all miss that place,
we all avoid this place,
we all long for this place.
It's quiet.
Its grayish light reflects in eyes,
and steals their light.
It's addicting.
Hell, it's addicting.
Maybe it is hell.
Maybe it isn't.

The twilight zone sounds perfect.
If we watch it in black and white.

Watch a shadow on a wall of shadows that is maybe your own skin.
It shivers.
it's alive, but dead, but also not from here.
there is no skin,
there is no flesh,
the is no blood.
you are not here,
you are not there.
you are in a place that is no place at all.
all the shadows are your own.
you are all around yourself.
The place we all hate.
The place we all need.

Inside our heads.