From a single supernova explosion.
We are stardust.
I am stardust.
Stardust that has become self aware
And learned to question oneself.
Blood, flesh, bones, cells, arteries, veins, brains,
A product of God,
Or the product of a funny little happenstance?
The same as everyone else.
But I like to think I’m different.
Personality?
A conundrum,
Paradox,
Silent,
Stone,
Made of stone,
That is what they tell me I am.
Lost in a garden of graves
I reach for the light
But retreat back into the shadows
When it reaches back.
Speaking in sweet solitude
My heart lies with green
But my body is draped in black.

Quiet, a mystery,
An ignored enigma
Wrapped in Bowie’s melody.
Life in slow motion,
Seen on tattered film reels.
Long nights of insomnia,
Driven by an attraction to the monsters,
Let’s forget my past,
Let’s forget my name,
Let’s forget I’m a coward.

Long hours
With shaking hands
Trying to write a happy poem,
But that simply won’t happen.
That simply won’t happen.
Forgive me for my morbid ways.

Tell us about you,
Tell us the real you,
An assignment to create forced poetry.
Poetry should not be forced,
Poetry should come from the heart,
From my heart does not come my favorite authors, such as Scott Westerfeld,
Nor does my favorite food, sushi, my goals of being a director, or the llama as my favorite animal,
From my heart comes something much darker,
More complex.
I was asked to tell no lies,
And no lies were told.
The truth is all there,
The real me is in plain sight.
It all depends on if you know where to look.

In short, to tell you about me, I am a cube.
I am a rubix cube no one has yet to solve.




(This was a school assignment to write a poem about myself...)