Lost for words yet again 1:24am still awake Head filled with screams Laughter following Hounds on a fox hunt Looking for a sign Where the rabbit tracks start Tumbleweeds rolling Maybe if I keep listening I’ll finally hear that poetic voice The shy one Only speaking when it’s had enough When silence becomes its enemy Provoking embers into flames I’ll continue to jot down Asking if it has anything to say Alcohol anonymous meetings Share your feelings The reasons for your actions Pass when you don’t feel like it Somethings got to give Please just say something to me Anything Even if it is Another suicide note We can’t carry out Deaths not a fast food restaurant We simply wait for a table
When you feel like writing but you have too much to say and it become a jumbled mess of words. I call it abstract poetry. Eventually something makes sense
Time . One of the slowest , yet fastest things I know . Having the ability to pass in a second while also having the strength to stop and drag along . I hate time . Especially when all my time is spent waiting on others . It’s like time is just idling , lagging , falling farther and farther behind . until it becomes nothing , nothing but a clock with no hands , all because of a decision .
I decided to spend all of my time just waiting, standing by without cause because time was on hold . but if I only knew what pausing time would do. Leaving me w the feeling of being lost and confused . Maybe then I would have just pressed play even if that meant I had to play by myself at least time would have been pressed to move along . instead of yearning for company . Imagine passing through infinity .. How lonely that would be . To never have anyone to tell my dreams ? That would not be an ideal fantasy . Yet time is forced , with me in the passenger seat , to break itself down . Demanded to spend half of itself alone. Completely cloaked Half in radiant light Half in soul ******* darkness But always ALL alone . What would this world be without time ? The world would be me . Alone yet free . Alone but free . But being alone and free is for eternity not for me .
What do you think this poem is really about ? Writing this made me realize how abstract my poetry is and I love that . I love understanding what I do .