I think The fact that I haven't Written a poem In nearly two weeks Is causing me To lose touch With reality.
Reality It's a funny word, isn't it? REAL-EH-TEE Real But I lost sense Of what was real The same day I lost you But let's not talk About you I'm sick of writing About you I'm fed up With every one of my ******* poems Including the word YOU Maybe that's why I stopped writing! Yes You were in my life enough And I got sick Of putting you in my poetry My heart Yes
So you see I've lost track now, haven't I? I was on about Losing reality And then… Oh never mind that I just… I lost what was real The same day I lost my sanity And it's been So long now That I'm not sure I'll ever get it back
But there was a question Yes How do I know That I'm losing touch with reality When I haven't known what was real In such a long time? Good question. It's just a Feeling I suppose The only thing humans Were ever really capable of is Feeling The only thing that is Real To people I guess Because emotions Often feel more logical than logic Even when I act on them Illogically
Or… Does that not make sense? I can never be sure My pencil always races Faster than my brain can dash My thoughts forgot How to run After you stopped being my coach Yes You pushed me To work harder Be better So what happened? What happened to make you leave? Why did you… Why did YOU **** “you” I can't stand that word! Why can't YOU Leave my mind?! Leave my paper?! Leave my poems! Just leave it blank! Instead of writing this wretched word Over and over Y-O-U Maybe I'll just leave it blank!
Is it worth losing myself? To leave the pages empty? Is it worth losing my real-eh-tee? Because I haven't written a poem In nearly two weeks And it feels like I'm going numb Because The only real thing I had left Were my feelings And now They seem to be melting away All the same As my ability To write A real Poem.