Progeny of grey sloppy sponge
And hard, dense cranial matter
Sons of electrical pulses and impulses
Daughters of ideas and concepts, half formed
The words and phrases spat out onto pages
The pictures and doodles creeping out
From behind your eyes
The mess behind your all-and-nothing
Viewing optical orbs
Art and trash, poems and junk
These are your brainchildren

In every circle there is
An infinite number of triangles
In every triangle there is
An infinite number of circles
In every triangle there is
Another infinity of triangles
So then why the heck is there only
One circle in a circle?

For every action there is an equal
And opposite reaction
For every kiss and kisser there
Must be one kissee
For every gallon of water added
There is one gallon of space taken
For every question there is a thing
For every answer there is an idea
For everything there is nothing
And therefore
This one person's life
A mere speck of electricity flesh and bone
Is inconsequential

I'm a hunk of flesh
A few pieces of calcium deftly placed
Tubes, fluids, electricity
Gasses, elemental compounds and chemicals
I sound more like a science project
Than a person
Grey sponge in a skeletal bowl
Completes the blueprint
This is **** sapiens

Blue or black shoes
Skinny jeans
Graphic t-shirts
Wrist-encircling chains and strings
Messy brown hair
Dark skin and darker eyes
******* bag
This is the outer me
A bubbly quirky girl
Strange smiles and stranger laughter
But inside I'm crazier
Layers of personality
Like an onion or an ogre
The deeper you peel
The curiouser I seem, I'm sure
Made-up superstitions
Good luck charms and rituals
Fear and Hatred for self
Confusion, stress, twisted love
Two outlets alone for my pain and
Tears, do not count
People think I'm bright
A faerie of sunshine
A beam of light
But how does someone so dark
So self-destructive
Become a guiding light?

Rain that is no longer wet
A slip of the teacher's tongue
Which can only make me wonder:
Is it like canned evaporated water?

"Nobody has ever measured,
not even poets,
how much the human heart can hold"
So now I wonder,
How might one measure this?
you could pour emotion and feelings
In until it overflows
And that may be the only way
For who can ask for a cup of love
A handful of laughter and sorrows
Three spoonfuls of spite
Perhaps a dash of smiles and indifference
But maybe too theses emotions and
These hearts are not measured the same
Each heart has its own experiences
Capacities and tolerances
Each emotion its own range of harshness
Level of strength, and color of feeling
Maybe Zelda had a point...