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Castiel Jun 2015
I am the universe.
I am abstract.
I am a collection of nothings and everythings.
My very being is a quantam equation,
Drowned in emotion
while being completely numb
Longing for a good life
and also for the sweet serenity that is death.
I am not a solid structure
but rather a blur of colour and motion
Whose beauty is undermined by many
and cast out by most.
But still I stay true to my own colours,
even if I don't particularly fancy the painting.
My colours are vast
and individually very beautiful.
I am working on seeing them as they are--
blended and confusing and unclear--
and seeing that as beautiful.
I am abstract.
I am the universe.

I am the universe.
I am woven with the threads of existence
and infinity.
I am at my beginning,
small and undeveloped
with the capability for so much.
One day I will erupt
in a brilliant display of power,
displaying myself boldly and spectacularly
But for now I hold it within,
my potential growing and growing
until something within me happens just right
and I can truly blossom.
I will use my power to build myself up
until I don't have to try anymore.
They say I will get so big
that I will destroy myself,
crushing myself back down to nothing
To less than nothing.
But I think that's happened before,
because I am nothing at the moment
And nothingness has never been so valuable.
I am woven with the threads of existence
and infinity.
I am the universe.

I am the universe.
I am beautifully unaware of myself
while creating something even more fantastic
Than my destiny tells me I can be
Because I am nebulae and galaxies
and starts and planets
and vast expanses of so-called "emptiness"
That is really filled
with gorgeous, deep, silken black.
I am the stars aligned,
the pure work of billions of subatomic particles
buzzing about frantically with their errands,
not even knowing what those errands are--
Just knowing that what they are doing
is what they must do.
I am the miracle of life
and the beauty of death
and the thrill of everything in between.
I am the mystery of what comes before birth
and the fear of what comes after dying.
I am the cosmos looking at its own reflection
Observing itself
Knowing itself
Being itself
I am massive, yet so, so small
but I question my worth
every time I dare to glance at the fibers
That hold together the fabric of my being.
I am eternity;
I am the clock which sits unnoticed
until I am needed,
or when boredom strikes and I become a last resort
To lessen the loneliness.
But the truth is,
I am loneliness.
I am a broken heart,
my blood seeping into all that is.
I am the tears welling in the eyes
of the kid down the street
Who has no choice
but to take a blade to his skin
just to breathe again.
I am his breath.
I am the ground beneath him
and the sky above him.
I am the face he sees in the mirror;
I am the hatred he sees when he looks at it.
I am the love in his soul
The blood in his veins
The scent of his skin
The beating of his heart
I am his heart.

I am the universe.
so i was locked up in a psych ward for attempting again, and one of the assignments i got was to write a poem about who you are. honestly I've never been prouder of any poem of mine. this even tops flurries and iris's diary 1.
Sudipta Maity Feb 2018
You are a quantam reality
no matter where from you born.
You are the galaxy, you are the universe,
you made up of sun.
weather you exist or not,
you will be always be the enrgy of cosmos.
Your existance in earth prove,
you came here with divine purpose.
There is no excuse good enough to ever be out of alignment with love. You’re going to get hurt, and you will feel pain. Yet your purpose is to keep loving, anyway. Keep moving forward with an open heart. Love is a Divine gift given to humanity. Wasting it is no longer an option. Love is what brings light to a dark place. Love is what transforms a dying world into a thriving planet.
Every new breath and day is on opportunity to do something,a gift of life to make a difference in the world.
brandon nagley May 2015
Corner stopdrifters pass through thrift store buyouts, where rideouts convey nothing more than themselves. Nothing more than one's own self to manipulate court related laws, where blood written wrapped gaws separate the few.....
Terrible can be plenty, and situational flames do burn through!!! Two phone's you say for a hundred odd men? Where taxes go unpaid, your a monkey slave to bicurious amends.
Ghetto child smile, for theirs is much noticed, have we all lost our focus to get that quantam year?
Turn stains into Tear's you quartermaster head, befriender of black and red, speaker of thy dead, how georgiously enticing life can be if you choose it soo!!!!
Have you lost your blessed sight? Does your smell let you know? Can we grow when thine sun don't shine? When water turns to wine we end up at a crossroad!!!

A barrier of misinterpretation/......

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