I do not want to live in fear anymore I do not want to live without desire anymore I want to move to a city where I know nobody where I will have a movie marathon alone where I will have a dinner at my own convenient where I will have the entire space to my own where I will talk to myself in front of the mirror where I will suffer alone from my crooked back I am pretty sure it ia more meaningful than to be greeted by thoughtful strangers to be harrassed by vengeful neighbours.
sometimes, knowing that you are loved from afar will make you want to fish for the sun from the star.
Everything that is true morphing Before my very eyes Waves of emotion The world dissolves Into a temporary state of nothingness A blissful existence Wandering between reality And a dream A newfound awareness Of subtle beauty A world of peace
when i was ten i discovered these books about summer it seemed all the chapterbooks were filled with strange stories of girls finding their destiny by the sea as their whole life changed between boardwalk adventures and family urgency, like melodrama in small increments with too much sunscreen something about one of them specifically stayed with me for years the cover was of the shore and the sand dollars lined in a row as if waiting to be picked up or maybe had just been put down something about them gave me the impression that this could be my life an eternal summer that i didn't have to abandon, the book i didn't have to close, look into the sun and not have to pick my body up from the water it seemed agreed upon that i could live in a continuous day nighttime didn't exist and the moon was a name given to my mother's friend everything was promised warm, my feet would touch pavement while my hair was permanently bleached but the sunset came and shook my shoulders
2. i stand in my bathroom cold and harmless the window is fragmented so no one can look at your ***** body but it makes everything outside look like when you didn't realize you needed glasses and once you did every memory was post foggy i could be a dying star or a sun brushing its' rays and you'd never know sometimes my hands are so clean my nails taste like soap and there's no way to go about it but accepting that
3. there used to be a fire and if i had to give it a name it would be Frederick i don't know when it disappeared or how it even started existing one day someone asked me if i knew how much wholesale toothpaste cost and my feet curled, i bit my lip so hard in fear i would scream until my throat bled but that didn't happen instead something burst, not a vein but a sentiment there were theories i used to develop while i went on dinner dates i remember thinking of what i now reference as the sangria theory while we sat and ate pasta and i could feel my head drifting while his eyes sank into the bottom of my shirt i thought maybe all the people that you meet have no chance but a say all circumstantial until you find something that harvests your attention until you slip past the underwear and then nothing feels important anymore was it ever? you go separate ways, separate directions as if in fear of finding something too close to whatever it is you're trying to find because then what would be the point of looking? there was a fire and now there's a glow and i can't tell which one i like more
If God Exists It Is not I who will have to justify my existence to him It will be those who have corrupted our lives who have stolen cheated lied for their own greedy selfish ways If God Exists It's those who have turned their backs and denied his existence, not I who have only questioned but not denied or forsaken him altogether Or shamed his name through despicable acts of cruelty killed In the name of religion as terrorist do I have only questioned his existence If that be a crime then so be It, then I will prepare to answer at the end of my time
Questions I have asked myself over the years about God but never totally denied his existence
sometimes i feel like falling down but only. cause standing up is boring why am i storming though a season where leaves fall cause that's norming bonds break but tears freeze and that's how crystals keep forming
i should test myself see what i can find in the life of my time or at least what i've been prescribed
to put it honestly to wish is to dream and that is to put it modestly but to live is to rip your skin from your body because comfort is a sad commodity a place holder for what you're meant to be but that's placing your bets on destiny and that's still a dangerous place to me
reach for the stars or at least set your eyes on a planet that's not ours maybe mars that was predictable but it rhymed so sorry if i'm presenting my ideas as cliche or despicable at least i can decipher what i know is unforgivable a prison is a person who's microsoft-able
but that's just my angst creating a villain vaporizing vixens are vain to the core but the haze of pain is still in only cause that's what they tell me when i want more more than a ******* juul i'm too cool to care about my health cause the moment is now right, until i have to worry about wealth for my family or my chemical dependence it makes me wince i mean i just want health insurance sorry i'm not used to the governments idea of assurance but jesus christ one nation under god kids get shot for mowing the ******* lawn what kind of world are we living in **** is fueling the patriarchy for the worser if a fertilized egg is a candidate for “******” every single guy walks a around wearing ******* or kappa donald trump doesn’t drink pops percocets and ******
i'm swimming and drowning and i need assistance but it begs the question of thoughts that fester in an enemy i'm sorry, i know that's not fitting my opinion of the human existence but why am i creating an enemy when all my life has promised me is the empty shell of persistence
Will I ever prove that I exist? What do I exist as?
I may try and be a shadow to you trying to protect you from the scorching heat, but will I ever know that you're a night wanderer?
I may try to be the rainbow for the silver lining in your storm, but will I know that you constantly live in a drought?
I may even be a nightingale filling your ears with music divine, but when will you tell me that you are deaf? Deaf to my yearnings and my cries, and blind towards the tears that wouldn't come out of my eyes. Deaf to the rhythm my heart beats for you, And yet I keep making the music. I keep making the music.
I keep making the music, perhaps to prove that I exist. But what decides existence? Do I exist?
I exist in nostalgia, when people remember their first true loves. I exist in memoirs, of the greatest rivals they made. I exist as the guidelines, of the way they shouldn't live their lives. I exist in their sensations, illuminating how comforting a touch should be.
Yet I need to prove that I exist. Why?
It's clear now. I exist. And you do too, even if it is as a reader or critic of a this mere poem on this website. I know you're there.