It is always upsetting
to think you've known someone for awhile
then realize you don't know them at all.
It is even more upsetting
when that person is yourself.
My hatred towards these people
incinerates my feelings towards the world,
bottles up and squeezes itself
into a half-pint bottle
slowly puffing out the edges
until it explodes
and slowly deteriorates the container
that is supposed to hold my emotions.
The light in my life
comes from the small things.
Such as the sunshine,
when you can experience it not only as light,
But feel the warmth as well.
The thrill you get from observing
fear and terror strike another’s life
other than yours. When you can
watch it from the comfort
of your couch, getting enjoyment
from another’s pain.
The chaos inside my mind
Only calms when I sleep.
My swarmed thoughts
are released
and I am free.
Much like the rest of humanity,
I have an infatuation
with escapism.
I swim in a lake of navy blue
suffocating me until it is unbearable.
Other times, I sink into a bed of gray
drifting among the weeks
not feeling anything - no happiness,
no joy, no love - but also no depression.
I prefer
treading water in misery
than my immune grayness.
I think
I am meant
to be alone.
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 9:26 PM UTC
It is always upsetting
to think you've known someone for awhile
then realize you don't know them at all.
It is even more upsetting
when that person is yourself.
My hatred towards these people
incinerates my feelings towards the world,
bottles up and squeezes itself
into a half-pint bottle
slowly puffing out the edges
until it explodes
and slowly deteriorates the container
that is supposed to hold my emotions.
The light in my life
comes from the small things.
Such as the sunshine,
when you can experience it not only as light,
But feel the warmth as well.
The thrill you get from observing
fear and terror strike another’s life
other than yours. When you can
watch it from the comfort
of your couch, getting enjoyment
from another’s pain.
The chaos inside my mind
Only calms when I sleep.
My swarmed thoughts
are released
and I am free.
Much like the rest of humanity,
I have an infatuation
with escapism.
I swim in a lake of navy blue
suffocating me until it is unbearable.
Other times, I sink into a bed of gray
drifting among the weeks
not feeling anything - no happiness,
no joy, no love - but also no depression.
I prefer
treading water in misery
than my immune grayness.
I think
I am meant
to be alone.
one of my first poems, written when i was 15