somewhere    2000 -    
What does it take to become a poet? I just write to express.
What does it take to become a poet? I just write to express.

ecstatic emotions overflow within,
raging intense waves of various colors,
invalidate my dull world and chagrin.
never have I felt such horrors!

like prickly throns of a rose,
your name gives me a tingly sensation.
like a deadly flatline motion,
expressed within a heart rate monitor.

realizations shower me like the arctic glaciers,
obliterating my body, crushed beneath the ice.
myopically, my vision blurs as you move farther,
asphyxiation sets in within my cold jealousy.

I don't know how to feel. Sometimes I'm as chill as ice, yet sometimes I seem to be frozen in place with a dying heart.

Music flowing, drowning and filling up empty hearts.
Sometimes we laugh, then cry tears in quarts.
Like the internal structures of a speaker,
To the beat of the sound, it makes us unstable and quiver.

Resounding and struggling, it sings anthems not it's own.
As the bass line keeps on sounding, so does it's thrashing.
A violent shake of waves that flow within us, making us groan.
The beat of the speaker's anthem for broken hearts, bursting.

Choruses and verses that relate to stimulate the soul.
Interludes filled with emotions making us fall.
This speaker that keeps on resounding and transmitting,
Is making me burst out my feelings as if I was dying.

Numerous emotions and various songs,
Of different genre's and feelings conveyed,
Are heard through this persecuted speaker,
Beaten down and thrashed, broken, scattered.

This speaker that speaks sounds not of it's own,
Is trying to convey genuine emotions...

I'm trying to speak yet no words come out,
I try to express it yet it comes out scratched.
As if I'm a broken speaker, I was out of whack.
You borrowed my speakers and I lost my voice.

Not a single day passes that I don't use my speakers and listen to music. Not a single day passes that I don't daydream about you too.

Jaded from your viciously captivating smiles,
Ubiquitous yet blurred and vague,
Stinging pain from this weird emotion,
Thank you for the greeting,
It made me happy just by seeing blue and white,
Naivete has taken over me, flustered red.

It's my birthday. I'm usually blue but... I guess my heart's beating again. I'm exhausted from it though. Thank you, words can't express my gratitude.

Lost in a cold night,
I have lost my mind, it hurts.
I wake up confused.

I've lost something I can't remember

Unscrupulous, surreptitious, and without a doubt, unnerving! This innate dissonance, have you ever encountered such a vile thing? Like a rainforest of such beauty and tranquility only to be interrupted by the bombs of war! Thundering amongst the hail of bullets are massive planes accompanied by perilous sounds from tanks and  agonizing death screams! The disgusting noise pollution of such dissonance within this imagery is just too much to bear!

You see, this world is filled with contrasts. Black and white, night and day. There's never a boring moment once you've become insane yet there's nothing to do when you're sane! It's highly implied that life is incomplete without death. Like the fingerprints on our fingers, life is diverse and unique, yet in this instance, everything's a mess!

The ears can see and the eyes would hear, and I'm driven insane by this sight! The heart can think and the mind can feel, and I would bitterly claim that I do not think to feel these types of things. These bombshells called emotions has destroyed my tranquil mind space. It has been filled with the shrapnel of you, setting me ablaze and injuring my inner confines like say, my gut, for I feel butterflies in my stomach. I feel as if I'll be plucking up daisies from that grassland I've once sat on. You've ruined my orchestra with dissonant notes.

I couldn't ask for more.
You revel in the ever-changing.
In my dissonance,
I'll then hand you this note:

"I thank thee for the chaos one hath brought upon me; I crumble down as I am rebuilt. Like the earth born from planetary collisions, we've collided. I hope to be amongst the stars, like the earth, filled with life."

A messy concoction of my thoughts written in prose. Is this even poetry? I wouldn't even know. Cheers.

In the face of despair, I'll surely hope.
In the face of death, I shall try to cope.
As I was wallowing in misery,
I just found the reason to be merry.

Borderlines of my care and apathy,
Tell me, which one should I even believe?
As I try to cope with my depression,
I just found myself a reason to smile.

The juxtaposition of my laughter,
The irony of my own emptiness,
The hollowness of my own entirety,
It's probably the opposite, really.
This reaction formation of myself,
Clad in some ominous oxymoron.

A sonnnet of my subsequent reaction formations that makes me question myself even more.

As I tread this path with prickles & thorns,
With fluttering butterflies in my gut,
With blurry visions of vague horizons,
Failed to notice, I was stuck in a rut.

I reached a small pond that mirrored my face,
I see roses, patches of red petals.
I was enamored with it as I trace,
The roses that formed a maze to my pulse.

It was blood, I was dying painlessly.
These thorns were shrapnel from a hand grenade,
The feeling of butterflies was numbness,
My blurred vision was from a ruptured vein,
I fell flat, dying, laying on the grass,
Please, my love, end me with a coup de grâce.

A sonnet of the final moments of dying painlessly, or slowly realizing reality.
#love   #war   #death   #painless  
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