I
Yearning
If it is yearning-
I suppose I can call it yearning for now-
(maybe it is wishful thinking or hopeless hoping,)
Is not romantic or a recipe for timeless love.
Yearning has only shaped us into crippled corpses.
Stuck inside this suffocating labyrinth that is my mind
Can inevitably turn one into their own worst nightmare.
No.
Their own worst enemy.
You yearn for her while she yearns for the girl sitting next to you. How pitiful
How despicable how truly self-destructive.
Say it again?
Oh to be stuck in the human mind where
all you can do is utterly loathe
the handcuffs of the body. Look at him
and envy what he is.
Misery- how bleak and black,
Sitting there in your own putrid thoughts.
II
In retrospect, thinking is limiting.
Just like a flower blossoms upon planting, it eventually becomes much too good for itself.
Is that existence?
Bursting with energy
Positively overflowing, overwhelming
Thoughts.
Existential-philosophical.
I proclaim a mindless life,
Is that peculiar?
Let us hide
under a rock. Let us
float from cosmic hue to supreme experience.
Forget the terror of the massiveness of life.
Let us just be in our souls and
III
In heaven all is perhaps pristine.
Here, you squeeze the life right out of me.
To be able to defy the laws of embodiment, deny
All doubt and fall through the shackles.
Break down the barriers.
Erupt through the stillness of the night
and find a rocking melody.
An unsteady beat.
Make me a nymph, a cherub, a goddess.
Mere mortals will not suffice.
I beg of thee- who am I begging?
To be iridescent, as the wings of a butterfly.
Curse the cosmos for this. For this life.
Turn me into the wind so that I may sway with the trees and
Whisper
IV
Tempting me with the possibility
Come take my hand- like the juice of a bumblebee.
Tempt me with wanting me and please do not underestimate
The power , when wanting comes. Not coming.
You proclaim your loving and wanting to the stars above,
Say it again, oh please never say it again.
This life was not meant for you wanting that:
Possess me instead of caress me.
Haunt me, do not want me.
Twirl me around until I am sick with love
Because for now I am simply sick of love.
Not what the presumed love is to be.
The euphoria that is overdue
V
Uncomfortable:
Like the lethe,
Dreary and Dull; morose and mournful
Stop. Just for a moment.
Gently sway with the swimming sea and the gnathonic monotony,
Breathe two, three, four.
Eyes wide shut, and extirpate the outside voices,
Annihilate the outside noises.
Grab a tissue, your nose is running while your eyes scream
With saturnine.
How still like the Earth stops spinning.
and then
Effete.