I tried to be a mainstream normie a long time ago
But found that there were too many background checks
So I contemplated becoming an inbetweener
And found that I'd never get that sweet middle ground
Being the strange creature I was
With all my intricate love for Australian pop bands
And deep interest in aged cultures
My art teacher identified me to be a hipster in senior year
And I blatantly refused, contradicting my intentions
Now, as a dubbed hipster, I pretend to fit in the grooves society has for such a category of people
Better not overstep my limits, I thought
When I strived so hard to find a group
To belong with to begin with
My efforts to assimilate to this hipster culture
Has got me pretending to be a role
that I thought I wasn't cut out for, but I'm finding
That I'm actually quite skilled in this act
Like an actor that's found truth in the lines
Of a play that sounds more realistic
Than the unscripted scenes of real life
There is a time;
A time when;
our true character-
What we say we are -
Who we think we are -
Who we want to be -
What we want to do -
When the chills.
Keeps us inside.
And it’s the greatest - the worst - the scariest - it can be a transformational period.
And it’s a time where loneliness wanders...
The superficiality of the summer is all but vanished.
As the daylight dims....
More than before
the last leaf falls.
in the middle of the vast calm sea someone threw a bottle with people locked in there instead of a letter. the sea was in chaos after the bottle came. but crashing waves wavered no bottle, storms broke no tiny vessel. rather than calling it tough, the bottle fought because it was scared. no more.
escape. don't we all just want to escape from the bottle - the suffocating bottle where you meet various people with different personalities, we never realize but we sometimes try to please.
win. don't we all just want to win the battle - the tiring battle between what kind of person you really are - a beautiful rose with thorns - from what kind of person you try to be - the circular puzzle piece for a rectangle-shaped puzzle quiz.
don't we all just wanna ruin our bottle and be who we are -stunning, unique, mysterious or what your personality is in the calm sea where you can be free
Ok, so here's the deal
I've got waaaay to many poems
I can't find specific ones
Eliot's search engine, just ain't, goin
What if we had a better one?
one that actually finds words or lines?
Ya think he'd be on board with that?
or think it, a waste, of time?
We could search our own, or others
and find some inspiration, and a muse
Or we could just stay right here
and all our sanity, lose
I'd like a better search engine
I'd like it here, and now
I'd like a better search engine
someway, right here, somehow
i’ve felt more at home
cradled inside words
and rocked to sleep by stanzas
then ever being in your bed
i’ve felt growth most
when i’m speaking in tongue
and writing rhythms,
then ever talking to you
you planted my soil
then let me choke on it,
while you sucked the life from it.
i’m growing flowers and life inside
of this body,
i am reclaiming
that has started it all
i am washing my art down my body
feeding myself with the love and passion
you never showed me
in this moment i am growing
and my art is ever flowing