i don’t know how to feel when i talk to you obviously there isn’t a right or wrong but sometimes i wish there was
it’s odd because often times i’ll feel guilty when you show me any form of kindness i worry you feel forced i try to comfort myself and believe it’s irrational but
i always feel this slimy flame creep the length of my spine it crawls from my spine to the base of my neck it’s grip strengthens, the heat it might be suffocating me but in some poetic and artful manner
as i begin to burn my hair has been set ablaze! i contemplate the brevity of my existence my eyes have become unbearably hot! i ruminate on all of what was and what could have been my entire body has become entangled with restless heat!
as the light fades it is light that has overtaken me
in my fleeting moments i realize that i am lucky because to burn because of you, is a pleasure
there’s this nervous energy that’s welling up inside of me more likely than not caffeine induced but it’s here and it’s here to stay
i only write about love or heartbreak and that’s so upsetting to me i feel that love and heartbreak make up a small part of me maybe i just struggle with vocalizing it so i write ...poorly
you know how people alway talk about having a feeling ‘creep up their spine’ in writing i’ve even used that phrase before but i don’t believe i’ve ever felt it for me it’s always in my stomach and chest a clenching a pressure a grasp whatever it is, i’m not a fan i would much prefer something creeping the length of my spine it sounds lovely
i don’t get sweaty palms it’s more so sweaty fingertips sweaty fingertips followed by dread no, that’s too harsh
i do think i understand the feeling of butterflies i tend to feel a certain tingle it will often devour me ok, again, too harsh
i don’t think i have a tendency to over exaggerate when i write of course, i am drawn to certain cliche literary devices personification metaphors imagery but i feel as though my writing conveys how i feel on a deep and true level
i do think i fancy you though i’m not quite sure why i use the term fancy i have never used it before but it feels accurate enough
i have sat here for the past hour, on the ground, ruminating on my own ****** lack of emotional understanding i sit here my stomach infested with moths my mind becoming entangled with vines of restlessness confusion infatuation angst more infatuation bordering on fascination my mind is being enveloped by the somber shadows cast by the incessant, demanding, creeping leafy limbs
i no longer know how to feel
another human has seen past your facade!! broke the davinci code!! never once failed to be the voice of reason when you can’t even understand your own voice!!
i love your voice
good god i forgot that this poem existed but i just found it while cleaning out my google drive. i'm honestly not terribly proud of his but it's nice to see that i've improved since this was written.