a ******* story does no good
"illustrate the pangs of loss"
why don't you illustrate my pangs of knowing you
stories only serve to accentuate
my failures I resent it
I resent you
my father, he was good
poetry was his forte
and even the poems
were not that interesting.
instead of being a genius-freak
he was a freak-freak
& with a beer in his hand, he would deny that
he drank because he was afraid of life
and said he was
disgusted with people like you
he was a walking catastrophe
rather like me actually
as I grow older I'm turning into him
I wish to vanish
he will never
there is nothing more that I can do
but wait I can wait
if hell is this chair what is heaven
I wish to be free but i
have no idea what freedom is
a shadow of an idea that our
fathers fought for mistakenly
sitting down is much easier than standing
though it does not allow movement
I wish to burn the books of my panic
see me reach for the stars but come back
my hands are stained
with the blood of my consciousness
but so are yours
and so, so much more than mine
not exceptionally proud of this poem, so if you have any suggestions, please comment or DM me!
i use poetry to describe
a vast array of things
it has occurred to me
there are no individual words
i could possibly string together
to illustrate you.
maybe if you weren't so complicated I could tell the world how amazing you are.
It's hard to illustrate
this essence in frames
some love is easily lost
but some love, it stays.
You draw outlines
With precision and care
And still gets smudged
in pain and despair.
You try to illustrate
take every right step
still, leave enough room for silly mistakes.
Some love, it just stays.
You try to erase
those sloppy details.
nevertheless, can't escape
but some love, it just stays.
If I could find the words to speak
and say them without getting weak,
it's all right there inside my head
thoughts just jumbled up instead.
Give me a chance to write them down
and I'll describe my world without a sound.
Without an authority, you are your own authority. But yet what do you perceive? Right and wrong? Truth and false?
So can you observe within yourself?
Did you observe anything before ever observing what is inside of yourself, or was it afterwards? what floats inside of you is only what floats outside of you:
is this not how you come to being? Are you truly finding yourself? Or what are you finding about yourself?
(Your opinion is only a reflection of the exterior from yourself; But that is beyond the point.)
If there truly is not an authority, and if you are the authority; how can anything exist from you alone?
know that what you perceive isn’t from you. It is only within your consciousness.
Truly you only know that you exist because of what exists outside of your existence; although you are not proven to exist without the absence of your existence.
Whatever you trust in isn’t from you; and only faith can be what you believe in. So whatever you put your faith in
it can only be of your own knowings, but you cannot have faith in yourself alone.
It flows and bursts into flame
I am overcome.
— The End —