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Porto-graffitiPoems
A peg of person Hanging on my word Show'd itself to me Wooden, carved roughly Surfaced on linen, varnish Shallowed man. He felt nothing to me, at me He told me riddle body ***** I ignored, bored hated words of worry But felt them myself, little Anti-anti-anticipations And trembling lumps of merryweather met us But we came to a pond, and drank the green green wealth We spun a little, splashed like ripples do Onto a blank canvas of a conversation Muddy murky words came out 'Sex *** sex' little bee, buzz for pollen, buzz for me I couldn't. I'm not. I'm not another, you're different, distinto I'm feeling nothing, angsty man, Through rides and fairgrounds together I found a lost child, and he set me I told you who I am and I found me. Roughly cut, varnished wooden man Burned in envy, dusted away I felt nothing, watched his anguish And figured, hammered, rutted out A sense of self-belonging, I guess we don't belong, I guess we make our own self-pity, But at least we know. I said goodbye, he did not, I left the day before yesterday I wrote a confusing poem to figure it out And people read it Quietly I confined myself to words and Bibles written for me For a bitter version of myself I burned away, burned away, Burned my, burned my burned away.
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Dec 10, 2016
Dec 10, 2016 at 7:49 PM UTC
Quirky Jerky
A peg of person Hanging on my word Show'd itself to me Wooden, carved roughly Surfaced on linen, varnish Shallowed man. He felt nothing to me, at me He told me riddle body ***** I ignored, bored hated words of worry But felt them myself, little Anti-anti-anticipations And trembling lumps of merryweather met us But we came to a pond, and drank the green green wealth We spun a little, splashed like ripples do Onto a blank canvas of a conversation Muddy murky words came out 'Sex *** sex' little bee, buzz for pollen, buzz for me I couldn't. I'm not. I'm not another, you're different, distinto I'm feeling nothing, angsty man, Through rides and fairgrounds together I found a lost child, and he set me I told you who I am and I found me. Roughly cut, varnished wooden man Burned in envy, dusted away I felt nothing, watched his anguish And figured, hammered, rutted out A sense of self-belonging, I guess we don't belong, I guess we make our own self-pity, But at least we know. I said goodbye, he did not, I left the day before yesterday I wrote a confusing poem to figure it out And people read it Quietly I confined myself to words and Bibles written for me For a bitter version of myself I burned away, burned away, Burned my, burned my burned away.
I've figured a lot of stuff out lately. I have a complicated life. Poetry is one of my many ways of dealing with my mind.
#me#being#person#acceptance#learning#asexual
Porto-graffiti
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Porto-graffiti
Dec 10, 2016
Dec 10, 2016 at 7:49 PM UTC
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