I feel trapped
Though I'm not
I'm free as a bird
Soon to be shot
I can't breathe
It seems I'm trapped
Yet there's no latch
That I can clasp
Invisible forces
Cage me still
I am free
But not from myself.
Oct 2, 2017
Oct 2, 2017 at 6:26 AM UTC
They think I write because I'm feeling emotional.
Dear me.
I wish I was emotional.
But it's the opposite, really.
I write because I feel nothing.
And feeling nothing means feeling a dull thirst.
I thirst for productivity.
I thirst for activity.
I thirst for the passion long gone.
So I wring my hollow heart out
for any inspiration
and whatever drips from it
I maximize fully,
What little gasoline remains from it I use extensively.
I strike a match
and burn everything
as much as I can,
Because I know it's nonrenewable
And I have to hoard ideas from it while stocks last, use it until the embers burn out.
Sep 24, 2017
Sep 24, 2017 at 9:15 AM UTC
It's easy to write about the immediate things in your mind,
the things lingering in your mind's eye,
the things crossing on your pedestrian eyebrows,
the things that hover just beyond your peripheral vision,
the things that are to be blamed when people comment on your
"distracted look"...
It's so easy to write about them all and it's in times like this when I'm so thoughtless that I want to get those trivial things back-
My thoughts, that is.
Sep 24, 2017
Sep 24, 2017 at 9:01 AM UTC
it's nothing now but a
lingering scent
of the cologne I used to wear
as a child, running wild
with my only friend
in some Catholic school...
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 7:16 AM UTC
I want to wallow in
the deep red ***** of self-hatred
not mainly because I want to
but because I've got no choice anyway.
It's comforting warmth has been
my safe space in this world
full of polite people demanding you to stop being so naked, to cover ****** parts of you with thin white suffocating *******
I'm going crazy my works don't make any sense anymore.
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 12:47 AM UTC
I also want to write poetry
when im happy;
to arrest the moment
with a pen and paper
and make the ephemeral eternal...
to catch the moment mid-laugh
and preserve it in some
oxygen-tight glassbox,
for me to look at it like a tourist would
in a museum-
whenever i feel like an unhappy phantom
on this sad sad world..
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 7:26 AM UTC
depression isn't beautiful.
it's so **** ugly
that it checks its reflection on the mirror
from time to time
to make sure that the cheap make-up
holds up;
so that no one would notice,
no one would bat an eye
on its ugly and pathetic visage...
May 30, 2017
May 30, 2017 at 10:29 PM UTC
depression is never blue, nor gray,
nor black and white;
it is seeing colors for what they are
dissolving into one another,
creating beautiful montages
of vivid details...
but their beauty is never
a sight to behold,
you just look past them.
May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 8:47 AM UTC
how do you do that-
catch my breath,
stuff it in some glass jar-
as a pet;
watch it grow from a pupa
to a butterfly,
then let it go
just like that?
May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 8:40 AM UTC
Light up the sky for me;
because the world down below
is just too unbearable to see.
I wonder why shooting stars
choose to land in here;
if I were them
I would cling to the vast galaxy.
Say that I am right;
And just watch to indulge our eyes.
The world looks so harmless
when everybody shuts their eyelids
and closes their greedy minds.
I wonder what's the reason behind.
Darkness doesn't always mean sullen;
because it is what I anticipate in the morning.
But in order to see through it
I need a little glow-
So light up the sky for me
and let your burdens go.
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 10:26 PM UTC