i am filled with a
deep, powerful,
angsty and artsy
desire to create.
what? i know not.
how? even less.
but **** if it doesn't
gnaw at me and
engulf me alive, this
painful, awful sensation
praying and clawing at
my fingers- to type, to
paint, to write, to draw.
this desire to create is
my ultimate betrayal.
because it reveals that i
have lied about not caring -
all i want is to leave myself,
traces, where someone else
may find them. a note in
between a book at the library.
a comment on a forgotten blog.
a message to an unused email.
i want to remember and i
want to be remembered.
and yet when i find myself
in front of the computer,
hands poised at the keys;
when i'm gripping a pencil,
begging to begin;
when my mouth is open,
and i wish to speak;
i find that there is nothing.
i am empty; i am a void.
Jul 22, 2022
Jul 22, 2022 at 5:27 AM UTC
i am filled with a
deep, powerful,
angsty and artsy
desire to create.
what? i know not.
how? even less.
but **** if it doesn't
gnaw at me and
engulf me alive, this
painful, awful sensation
praying and clawing at
my fingers- to type, to
paint, to write, to draw.
this desire to create is
my ultimate betrayal.
because it reveals that i
have lied about not caring -
all i want is to leave myself,
traces, where someone else
may find them. a note in
between a book at the library.
a comment on a forgotten blog.
a message to an unused email.
i want to remember and i
want to be remembered.
and yet when i find myself
in front of the computer,
hands poised at the keys;
when i'm gripping a pencil,
begging to begin;
when my mouth is open,
and i wish to speak;
i find that there is nothing.
i am empty; i am a void.
woo hoo
i literally only write poetry when i'm depressed. if you could even call this poetry. cuz honestly it seems more like a little jumble of words with sporadic spacing to me. but whatever. art is what i make it. eye of the beholder. if i call this poetry, **** right it is! or something like that.
it's been a long while. i wish i could claim it's because i haven't been depressed. god, that's the dream! but, alas, i have simply... been empty. i still am. but desperation settles deep and i needed to write something.
i despise (to reiterate - DESPISE) the poems on this account. but it feels cheaper and ******** to remove them and pretend they didn't exist. like, yeah it is dumb that i wrote faux artsy poems about love and ******** all caps story about losing myself? i feel sick just thinking about it. but that's the **** i wanted to write! so be it! i'm sure i'll look back on this poem in a year or so and feel the same way. perhaps that is self growth! :)
here is the starting verse (not sure if that's what it's called? do not know poetry terms very well) to this vent-y poem that i ended up removing because i didn't think it fit very much. but i feel bad letting it turn into dust and would like to give it a warm thank-you and farewell here:
i'm so sick of
these excuses,
this "executive
dysfunction" thing,
these late-night tears
and week-long
procrastinations.
it is perhaps the truest statement of all in this entire poem for me. and i do feel a slight remorse at deleting it so. feels dishonest; at least this dissuades that guilt a little.
you (if you are reading this; perhaps no one will and it is simply a shout into the endless void of a grayish-whitish poetry site) may wonder "why is this person writing so much in the notes of a mediocre vent poem? can't they just make a blog?" and i would tell you it's the exact message of this poem.
everything i do is a shout into the void. the internet is sort of like a very crowded street, but everyone is wearing headphones. even though it is highly likely no one is ever going to read this, there is the slight possibility they will. someone may hear over their blasting music/podcasts/whatever they listen to! and oh, the self esteem boost i would get! at just the THOUGHT! at the sight of "10 views" ! what a dream!!!
and that is why i write all this nonsense here. my proverbial blog post. i hope someone sees it. they don't have to read it; i just want them to see this big fat block of grayish letters (not sure if there's other themes on hello poetry but i just use the basic ***** regular mode) and at LEAST think "who the **** would write this ? i have to scroll all the way past this? for fuck's sake" i would like to be the pebble in someone's shoe for a moment. but hopefully less annoying.
well. that is all! i can only put off the next day for so long. at one point i have to accept it is coming regardless.
i hope you have a wonderful day. goodnight and farewell!!!!