I want to find poetry
in media theory
I want to find poetry
in philosophy
psychology
sociology
I want to find poetry
in the bored line of zombies
walking these streets
9 o'clock every ******* morning
I want to find poetry in
the kid scratching himself out of his skin
in the creaking chair beside me...
His voice: muffled with aggravation
and his eyes: red, sad & exhausted
They make it hard
Hard to see the beauty in this place
I want to find poetry in the distance
I want to find poetry in missing you to death
But it all just kind of blurs together
in the hot Philadelphian sun
reflecting off the pavement beneath
my tired feet
It all eventually just gets lost in the gutters
next to cigarette buds and the green glass
debris of old beer bottles all over this city
Nothing really looks like poetry
Anymore
And I'm scared
Scared I'm losing myself
Surrendering my emotions
Or trading them
For some title that says,
"Yeah. She's literate"
Because that's all it really adds up to
Pretty ******* literate
Pretty ******* bored
And definitely boring
I don't wanna be boring
And I don't wanna be bored
Don't let me lose my dreams
Please
Please don't let me go
Go this way