O' K AVI
LINK in BIO
I wish I was more than what I turned out to be,
I wish I was who they always wanted me to be
another lie in this sea of corpses hanging on to each other,
without any dreams or sight,
I wish I was as dark as night,
so they could see the flaws in every light,
I wish there was no need to pretend that I am no one yet,
but they know not to forget,
what they once wanted me to be,
I wish I was free in this world locked in chains and scars,
I wish I wasn't a machine and had a heart,
that everything was more beautiful than how they claim,
these empty words that fall down on my conscience like winters rain,
forming icicles that dangle over my head waiting for me to speak,
I wish I was weak,
so I could give in to their desire and leave,
tear a hole in my head and bleed
every thought they want to murder
I wish I was young again,
so, I could be afraid of the things beneath my bed,
instead of the voices inside my head,
I wish I was dead,
so they could stop counting my every breath,
I am not, what I have always pretended to be,
I am too cold, and they are too old,
beyond the rainbow where colours still dance in peace,
I wish I could leave,
I wish I could breathe,
in this hollow they call my home,
I'm so alone,
wandering inside my head all alone,
I wish I could mourn but I won't,
it is I who chose not to wage war on the strangers,
that have made me a prisoner within my own skin,
I wish I wasn't always burning,
for I cannot feel the pain no more.
My world is a harmonious chorus
With lyrics that hit home
And words that write themselves
Through emotion and dictation
With pitches which ring the highs
And lows, and discarded melodies
That cannot meet your ears
but are thrown away
My galaxy is a musical gathering
With piano keys that hiss
Out of tune, yet with such perfect
Imperfections that apply heartache
And guitar strings that strum
Their sounds will scream
until they're just right
My universe is an audible constellation
With manuscripts and papers
Scattered on the floorboards
And words are unwritten;
Inspiration feels abound
And everything begs
to be expressed
My home is a rhythmic dance
And I love it so.
The last words of the lines of this sonnet are the same as those of a sonnet by Edna St Vincent Millay, "What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why...". There is no other connection between the two poems.
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I cannot sleep tonight, and you know why.
You know how many weary hours I've lain
upon my bed and listened to the rain
lashing the window, and the mournful sigh
the wind makes. You have heard mine in reply.
I know you know the reason for my pain.
I know you know why, over and again,
I've wept out loud. I know you saw me cry
as I remembered carving on that tree
your name and mine. You were the only one
I needed then. You know, just as before,
how much I need you yet, but you have gone.
Only your spirit now still lives in me,
and I can never hope for any more.
You punched your mother in the face for trans rights.
you're really moving up
found out you had herpes,
want to switch majors
leave your girlfriend and move in
with the affair
you thought it was all an uphill from the bottom
like a country song
lost your grandma
lost your daughter
lost your job.
the roller coaster isn't that simple.
you'll lose your whole life here, kid.
go get tested, you'll figure it out.
smoke cigarettes, get a psychiatrist.
have another panic attack, they're good for ya.
punch your mother in the face, don't even get locked up
count the cuts on your hands
watch the blood pool around your knuckles
you did it because she wouldn't let you call your partner "they".
"Call her an It if you have to, just not they."
well you should have taken that as signature.
left her there wrong.
been higher and mightier,
but you recorded her.
caught it all on tape.
and now she's blocking the door.
She's softer than you remember
it isn't hard to get her off you
to move her
she can't hold you back.
she can't even cry.
you scream and she won't listen
still you're wrong
millions of voices are wrong to her
"society doesn't think that way nick.
YOU think that way."
"they'll stop saying they, if
YOU stop saying they."
Maybe that's why you fought so damn hard that night.
protecting the audio recording.
of you leading an army
at your own mother.
It was Tuesday night, and that meant
Something different for each of them
Despite the scenic overlap he
Hoped she still desired
She did, and so off they went
And sat and drank, idle talk
She drank to feel nothing and
He drank to feel her and some nights
They both got what they wanted
He hoped this would be one of those nights
It was looking that way, and so
Despite his better, sober judgment
Yet another pitcher was ordered and
They continued their dance from
Topic to topic with an ease
Unobtainable only an hour before and
Things were really looking up
For the both of them
But she'd had more practice and
He saw black and she saw red
And just like that their illusion
Crumbled and there was
No longer any reason
To keep it going
So they left
And drove home in silence
The awkward kind where caustic
Thoughts battle in midair like the
Cloaked quadcopter drones of
And once again
Neither got what they wanted
But especially that night, and neither
Had the slightest clue why
But there was always next Tuesday night
The torrential kind
What it feels like
To see color
Clarity in flashes
The earth spills
Its daily struggles
And I bottle mine
"Welcome to Earth"
Breaching and scorching
This tortured sky
Will Smith is too expensive
To save us now
"A Thousand Words"
In the storm
Shadows and highlights
Are nonsensical terms
Black level, high
Go as fast as you like
I'll take my time
And watch you spin
Out of control
The point of
Again and again
Convince me I'm wrong
I'll hurl my innocence
Into the storm
Wait for it
It's coming back
That isn't light
At the end of the tunnel
It's just less dark
It's not over yet
Through the fog
Shrek on wheels
Snoopy on ice
They pass and
There is a pain
That comes after
In the relief
In the recuperated vision
An aching remnant of
You almost miss it
Waist-deep in white noise
A melody identifiable as my own
Soaked in stagnant thought
A denotation of the passing storm
I can't remember the code
To get in
Normally it's not a problem
Numbers are like puzzle pieces
Seven and three
Three and fourteen
Fives are blue and
Tens are black
They all just fit
Charged and begging
Like the eagle understands gravity
And thrives on it