"I feel the beat of my own words as they tumble
A stutter, a jump in the waves of thought that crash
Down, encircling my head, shooting an emotional gun
A bang in bed, so hard it breaks. The love causes a concussion."
I am thinking too much,
I can't just let thoughts fall from my lips,
I wish I could speak out about emotion;
The path they've led me down,
And have people think they're beautiful and heartfelt,
But I don't have that capability because lately my
Mind has been overcrowded and empty,
I contradict myself like a wasp that has no sting.
What's the point?
I am a poet that can't write or rhyme,
I am a performer with no character,
An artist without a clear muse and so
I scribble on a page hoping to find
Someone who will respect my patheticness.
I listen to music, wishing that I could sound like
The people who know what to do the next day,
Because I have no clue.
Thinking that far ahead leaves holes in my vision
Because something is missing,
But I cant see far enough to find it!
My entire life has been a magnifying glass,
Trying to find my way, the right way, and society's way,
But I can only follow one path and that one
May not even be paved yet.
And as a girl who hated wearing shoes as a child
And who looks to her childish heart for guidance,
That may be a problem.
