It's weird but across history many great things started with a problem.

The heat opened a casket somehow
Entombed in a white hot vacancy
Rests my summers day melody
Of gentle feet patting crunchy gravel
Along the pink spines of swamp snails
Out there with listless goats inhaling
The moss infected water
And how I am trapped in my protective
Jalousies like a silly little lifeguard
Waiting for a dip in the surface
An action in the preface

The fields are screaming silver mutiny amidst
The drought on their legs
What travesty happened here?
What reverie of the cosmic nature?
They left it bald as an onion
Sifted as cement
I can hear their pleas
To drop them my sweat
Like a mother to her children
All to ease their parched throats

The wind hangs like a scandal
Whip there, calm somewhere
Or a fusion in between
As fickle as my feet could carry me
I feel like a sponge in all
My sublime holes
Waiting for rain to drop its mercy
Submerge me in its ocean of rumination

It is horrible
I am fried like chops
Of hard meat about to skitter and burn
Rare you say?Not possible in this
Omniscient oven.
The birds turn brown in my eyes
Like lumps of soil with feathers for feet
They seem to be getting along
With the unforgiving sky.

Til when will I snap out of this. I havent been reading or writing poetry like I used to. I'm so mad at myself and of everything bec it feels listless and aimless. I love what I used to do and given the chance I'll pay a leg for it if I could. But that passion seems so far away I only ever dream about sleeping or not really giving a **** and the days pass on like fleeting whispers and I hear nothing, I know of nothing. How did anyone live with this preposterous ******* I'd like to understand how because my days of tolerating it are dwindling down into a deep desire of wanting to see something burn and smell the smoke and hope it possesses my ******* senses. i hate this i hate what has become of my sanity of my body of my feet they all betray me like an idiot ******* out of my ******* hinges I am. I am screaming into a vacuum that nobody goes to the ****** lie I just want everything to be okay because I cant stand another year of blind inferno this is not fair this is terrible it's like dying with your eyes wide open forcing you to swallow all your pain and do not complain you ungrateful coward this is the life you will have give or take shut up there is no point. I am mad and sad and everything in between i wanna rip the ******* edges of those weaker than myself but I cant but I wont idk why but it's for that that I am still on my limits

I wonder how I let sadness crash me like the cruel waves
as I sank wrecked, unsearched.

Daylights fading
Locked in my self
The music slowly dies out

Everything is a passing gray
As the dim out my room
Becomes  my loneliness

I'm crawling like a worm
 in this earthly pain
My face is a river bed,
my eyes a running pool
No wonder I am trying to surface
From torrents I cannot fight
As brave as I want
There are daggers in my blood
They slip out once in awhile
Say hello to me like old
friends from war
Leave me with more shields
Instead of fragments

I shut off the light
 and  feel more alive
Than ever in the dark fields
My home, my sanctuary
My strength, my apathy
When will the stars
Descend to the walls
Grounded as rocks
To your endless beauty?
You are so beautiful
But so terrible
I worship you dead rose
Worship you with wonder
And gravity
Dark, dark the light has left
Left left me
But you have not.
Not you.

Everything can drop
Before me in defeated arms
Like mind leaving in mortality
Like hope dissolving eventually
Not you.
You you you
Not not not
Never, most probably.
Never, most fittingly.
So my dear, veiled flame
Catch-22, alter odyssey
What does this say
About you and me?

My head is knots on knots
No cheeky red faced scout
Oaths to untangle
Except perhaps
people crazier than I

Sullen as a brick on the wall
Imposed as a figurine doll
The ant-like people
Look on and leave
As if I was a bad show,
Their awareness too
untamed for
my script.

Not Scarlett O' Hara
With lovers on a row
No, no, no mister
I am an antiheroine
Waiting to happen
The world is my stage
Unlike Hamlet certain that
I am going
to be.
 
My wings have
Fallen flat on the
road like gravel
But I make feathers
From leaves people
Leave behind
And sew them
Like stitches in
My spine.

No.
I am not the person
You read in books
with jargons sprawled
Like fancy words only
money could buy.

I am stuck in the walls
Everyone stares when
They get too stuck
With pain and alcohol
Dreamt like hallucinations
Refused like a cul-de-sac

Do not play me
Like a ragged doll
Of your forgotten child
Or a roadside blossom
plucked in fickleness
For I have become
This and that.
This and that.
Over and over
The pawn and
The king
All at once.