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danielle-rosePoems
I have tried to give birth to a new and improved version of my vision Exulting blips of exactitude and ambition Flashes of pretension on a screen of pending dreams Lacking mobility and projection Inertia writhes I'm mainly advertising trying to sell and intrigue To those who have enough eloquence to persuade my predilection and schemes Endorsing me providing lifelines and pure consciousness Lacking the force of extorted themes and exulting worthiness Cleansing my mind of the mocking bird's trash heap Help me dissemble the falsified declarations and professions of fiends I want to be pristine I beg thee to teach and galvanize me Endowing me with inexorable sight Keeping me keen and full of bold might I am willing to fight Bring me to the surface of these turbulent seas No need to mention my frailties and anxieties All I ask is a breath from the surface of true realities The urgency constrains my needs for rejuvenation and appreciations For all those little beautiful things that once meant the world to me Like pink carnations Sleeplessness morphs into spells of insomnious hauntings Stunting my contractions It's completely and utterly exhausting A labor deprived of true initiative and wanting It may sound silly but everything is contradictory It is these pains that leave me incomplete, ineffectual, and in paralyzing omission Excluded and feeling great depths of oppression Despairing and kept in solitary confinement Suffering more than I'd like to profess Distressing the matters that cave into my chest An infiltration of insurmountable anguish Abolished Untouched by a shoulder or hand of accommodation Is it selfish to push for this magnitude of isolation? I crave cultivation I want to grow into the Giant Sequoia But the fires of self doubt leave my branches in ruins Smoke signals sending sirens A constant affliction It's all my own doing Contingency pleading for nourishment Somehow knowing thee and ye could constitute for something of legends Tell that to our reflections Or maybe it's the fear of fire that terminates our pregnancy Causing us to introvert instead of projecting Withholding both you and I from mastery
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Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 9:12 PM UTC
Birth
I have tried to give birth to a new and improved version of my vision Exulting blips of exactitude and ambition Flashes of pretension on a screen of pending dreams Lacking mobility and projection Inertia writhes I'm mainly advertising trying to sell and intrigue To those who have enough eloquence to persuade my predilection and schemes Endorsing me providing lifelines and pure consciousness Lacking the force of extorted themes and exulting worthiness Cleansing my mind of the mocking bird's trash heap Help me dissemble the falsified declarations and professions of fiends I want to be pristine I beg thee to teach and galvanize me Endowing me with inexorable sight Keeping me keen and full of bold might I am willing to fight Bring me to the surface of these turbulent seas No need to mention my frailties and anxieties All I ask is a breath from the surface of true realities The urgency constrains my needs for rejuvenation and appreciations For all those little beautiful things that once meant the world to me Like pink carnations Sleeplessness morphs into spells of insomnious hauntings Stunting my contractions It's completely and utterly exhausting A labor deprived of true initiative and wanting It may sound silly but everything is contradictory It is these pains that leave me incomplete, ineffectual, and in paralyzing omission Excluded and feeling great depths of oppression Despairing and kept in solitary confinement Suffering more than I'd like to profess Distressing the matters that cave into my chest An infiltration of insurmountable anguish Abolished Untouched by a shoulder or hand of accommodation Is it selfish to push for this magnitude of isolation? I crave cultivation I want to grow into the Giant Sequoia But the fires of self doubt leave my branches in ruins Smoke signals sending sirens A constant affliction It's all my own doing Contingency pleading for nourishment Somehow knowing thee and ye could constitute for something of legends Tell that to our reflections Or maybe it's the fear of fire that terminates our pregnancy Causing us to introvert instead of projecting Withholding both you and I from mastery
danielle-rose
Written by
danielle-rose
American
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 9:12 PM UTC
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