Posted in Poetry

Goosebumps

Chills down the spine,

Prickling at the nape of the neck,

A faint melody, a distant tune, a familiar hum –

Like brushing off the dust from old, yellowing books,

Stirring long forgotten memories.

 

Music.

A song reminding us of days long gone.

Lyrics making us question ourselves.

Resonating with something deep within,

Chilling to the bone.

 

Fear.

Of confrontation, of being caught, or of simply owning up.

Clutching at our chests,

Leaving us numb and breathless,

Like a weight pressing down from all sides.

 

Anticipation.

The thrill of meeting a loved one,

Or that degree marking the culmination of hard work.

When the leg inadvertently bounces out of excitement,

And the hairs raise of their own accord.

 

Cold.

And then there’s the cold.

The harsh wind, stinging at the face.

Bringing tears to the eyes, goose pimples across bared skin.

Yet, it’s not always the cold that gives you goosebumps.

 


 

Lyrics from a song I used to love, ’cause why not:

 “I wonder sometimes about the outcome of a still verdictless life, am I living it right?”

 

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