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Listening to these depressing songs.
It's ironically giving me the will to be strong,
And I don't mind if they're being played for long.
They're making the oceans of my heart rift,
Letting my soul drift in the cold water.

Staring up into the sun,
Ironically it seems fun.

Dipping in my own sorrow,
Urging me to press play,
Again and again,
Making me feel a little bit insane.

I'm enjoying dwelling in my inexplicable pain,
Making me realize,
That maybe,
Sometimes,
One can be happy by just being sad.
The middle class idea of theft--
where we eat at semi-fancy restaurants
seated at faux leather interior
deep seated dimly lit coves
dine in a sarcophagus of tasty mildew.

A youth lends their smile
teeth faintly shine through,
but roughly cut short of sincere;
on their lapel in fine print the label says Sandy.

Flexing water spotted plastic
black brim borders
and articulated names of food
that would put all of Italy to shame.

Porcelain plates hold lofty portions
of what is purely compensation
as texture and flavor remind me of my adolescence
this is when Playdoh and Crayons are used for flavoring.

A slate for my signature is provided
and the upside to this all
was the perfection of a pen they lent me
it was ball tip and bright pink--
finally something I'd be glad to take home with me.
Uumm I guess this is about how things steal culture/people/ideas and serve them to us in a unfaithful/dishonest fashion OR it's just a review of some random place and their feelings towards a pen.
 Aug 2015 Nitsua Aivilo
Auss
I wage war
That's never been seen before
Is sanity worth fighting for?
I'm not really sure

Insanity?
A calamity?
I call it individuality!

Who is Society
To create this hypocrisy?!?
It seems like such a tragedy
To waste such ingenuity
To dull the creativity
 Aug 2015 Nitsua Aivilo
XIII
Does insanity knows it is insanity?
No, only sanity knows.
Think about it.
Casements to the soul
Lovers find reaching in dark
O what hands can hold
Your hands were always cold,
even when you were mad–
even when they were
entwined in my oafish hands.
Oh, and how you would get mad!
I remember how those thin, delicate fingers
would tense up,
long and slender as they were,
and you would press the nail
of your index finger into the
side of your thumb.
You didn’t even notice you would do it.
It got to a point that we fought so often
you had cuts from your own nails.
The most beautiful fingers,
graceful and untouched,
except for those little stress-cuts
dug into the side of the thumbs.
And always cold,
even when you were mad–
even when they were
entwined in my oafish hands.

I am sorry we fought.
I always thought
if I could just keep those hands
warm a little longer,
we would make it through alright.
The fighting and the winters
and the coldness of it all
proved a little too much.
For that, I am sorry.
I hope you found yourself a
warmer hand to hold.
love so blind yet so kind
love is knowing you can
it is that feeling you get when you kiss
a friend goodbye

love is life
like water,it is a need
love is precious,like gold it should be valued and treasured

love heals
love reveals who we are
love sets us free
love brings us close and leaves our heart filled with warmth and satisfaction

love is that smile from utata,it is that hug from umama saying I am proud of you my child
and that voice of encouragement from a Friend when the world is against you

love is powerful and meaningful
love is beautiful
 Aug 2015 Nitsua Aivilo
Positive
dysfunctional feelings
"I love you too"
exactly my point,
influenced by conformation.
direct deposit
overdrawn enthusiasm
settles my broken heart

— The End —