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Emma Johnson
Poems
Nov 2012
the game.
The optimistic existentialist
getting by on
the vapid knowledge that
nothing has meaning
but thinking it might
someday.
The shallowest
deep-thinker youβve ever met
in a constant war
between vanity and philosophy,
drowning in mirror-hating narcissism
and my humble ego.
Introverted loud-mouth
socially inclined,socially incapable
assertion-loathing people-person.
Vengeful peace-maker,
violent pacifist
fists littered with deceptive,
fallacious,faint purple bruises.
All these things are the
drip drip drip
of drops in the bucket
of a level-headed psychopath.
I dare you
to dive into the water,
headfirst,
of my mind
where I constantly contradict myself,
like itβs a game.
Written by
Emma Johnson
Montana
(Montana)
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