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I am sincerely sorry for being an absentee in my own life. You probably don't know me or even care about my existence, nor do you find relevance in my apologetic attempt to reconcile my fruitlessness. But I feel strongly compelled to apologize for my stagnation:

I come from a pond across the way from you. A stowed away break in the trees where the sun only shines for a brief time at noon and disappears for the rest of the day. The birds don't sing their song of sixpense, nor do the fish splash or the frogs belch their symphony. Even the crickets scream as loud as the mimes at the circus. For nothing enters and nothing leaves, so why do you even bother?

I only write to you for what could have been, and pray for forgiveness for what hasn't been. I understand that the act of "what if"s is a waterfall of tears cascading into an abyss, but I find that this journey is a necessary evil.

So what if I made a splash today in my pond, the ocean of things that I can actually control. Sent ripples across the pond and stirred the fish into commotion. The frogs join in the chaos with their symphony  and maybe the crickets, after hearing the low bass of croaking, decide to join in with their rhythm that awakens the birds from their deep slumber. In response, the birds spring up with their joyous melody and the ensemble of nature creates an exuberant noise in a previously dull and dim place. Such a thought that one tiny splash can dictate a tremendous ensemble, such that if you took your thoughts off of your own life for a split second you could possibly be splendidly surprised by burst of nature from an insignificant source. Such small fractions of life can create mesmerizing sound waves that make you a little happier today.

It seems so simple to create, just a whispering splash. Yet I have failed to create a single note that is audible to the outside world.

There are two plausible reasons for my plight: Either the noise I attempt to create is so insignificant to the outside world that more significant amplifications exceed my own capacity to make sound or the world is just simply not listening anymore.

No matter how many times you cry out, jump up and down in the pond and scream your head off at the world; the ripples aren't forming. The waves don't crash on the shore and one is left standing invisible in the center of a drowning amount of commotion.

And if you are reading this, you are the anomaly that has slipped through the sound barrier to hear this silent song.
what is real
that's what i want to know
what exists
is anything of this real
and if not
what is
what if this is just a fantasy land
inside my own head
what if i'm in a coma
what if i'm somebody else
what if i am the only one that exists
what if i don't exist at all
what if there is some massive movie screen
that everybody can watch
from which everyone can see
the world through my eyes
what if i am dead
what if i have existed and lived a thousand times before this
what if this is some strange attempt to truly find peace
what if none of this is real
what if none of this is real
if i close my eyes
does the world cease to exist
and does anything truly exist
if it is possible for vision to fade and never return
perhaps the world is born when i am
perhaps it will die when i do
perhaps the world is just snippets thrown together
different perspectives
different timelines
there are explanations
the gods of science
but who is to say that that is real
who can determine what is real
is it me
is this all up to me
to all those reading
if there is anyone reading at all
i will never know you
i will never have a way to know
if anything
or anyone
truly exists
this life has the permanence
of dreams
flashes of images
thrown together
who is to say what is real
who is to say what is real
who is to say anything at all
my memories might as well be fake
so what do i do
do i do my best
to fit into this make believe world
do i let go of the universe
and play to my quiet niche
or do i let go of the present
let go of the past
let go of the future
and just be
who is to say what is real
who is to say what is real
does the world disappear when i close my eyes
does it all cease
to be
when i die
will the world die with me
is my body real
does it exist
and does the world around me exist
or is this all just hallucinations
is this anything at all
i have no way of knowing
i can see my fingers
i can feel my bangs
brushing against my face
i can smell the must
i can hear the gentle murmur
but what makes this real
what if this isn't real
what happens when it all goes away
what happens when everything goes away
what happens when i can no longer feel
what happens when my eyes don't see
what happens when everything fades
and even my thoughts go away
what is behind the veil
what is just out of sight
is there anything there at all
is it the void
is it just the void
the blackness behind my eyes
stretching out forever
is this the flashback
before i die
is my life running before my eyes
is everything draining from me
and is there truly mortality
do we truly exist at all
is there a we
or is it just me
alone
with my vivid hallucinations

it could go away so easily
it could be gone

i imagine those chambers
those water chambers
where everything is silent
and the water is the same temperature
as your body
and there is nothing
and you lay in the dark
is that dying
is that what truly exists
or is even that an illusion

is anything real
is anything real
There's something so lonely writing this, not truly knowing if anyone will ever truly see it. I know that I will never know the answer. I will never know if anyone exists. But that in itself is the answer, and I hate it, because I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do.
Who are you? nobody or somebody?
a specie called human or a
specie known by its name
if that is so,
you share your name with many,
who are you? nobody?
then why are you here?
a null is also defined then why can't you, says another
who are you? somebody?
if that is so,
care to mention that some, says another
everything has an existential reason, says one
then, why can't the existence alone  stand as a reason? says another
living aimless shouldn't be a reason, says one
then, why say "live without conditions"
and so goes the questionnaire with the society
at last found to be one!
is it somebody or nobody?
is yet to figure.
in world of ablutions sometimes we feel the void in us then the question raised in the mind are put into ink
Dominique Aug 20
I kept track of his body
The heaviness of it on mine
Pressure points I could reach in time
Exposed skin, the flesh nearest my teeth
His neck, the stomach I could knee
Veins on his arms to rip out like strawberry laces

Yes, I expected an attack
I mobilised my arms, the power in my legs
Ordered adrenaline in bulk,
Lay back with awareness, armour
In the shape of readiness - an urge to fight back
When, not if, playing behind my eyelids
Conjured up all the cavalry I had inside of me
As he kissed me slow and called me an angel

I know what you're thinking

I left myself too open
I should have been holding a knife behind his shoulder
What sort of soldier relies on her fists alone?
But he withdrew his troops at the first stone I threw
And that was when I knew he was a bigger issue

I practiced shooting him from a distance
Until I had to go back home.
I'm not with them when I'm with them
Alexander Aug 15
I want someone to notice me.
It actually physically hurts to know,
No one does.
I’m ok, just for the people who aren’t
Noah Rein Aug 13
The day I’m defined by the materialistic value of my poems, is the day I will no longer write them
I will write for the ones who will listen
Know one know just how
I feel for Im losing all track on what we know as life reality bitter sweet my life so far has
been
The sweet being Helen the birth of our son the bitter being abused as a kid seems that Im content just lay here writing
poems
and letting the world pass me by not really wanting or feeling the need to do anything but to wait my time to be together again with Helen
Perfection salutes him
He creeps into different emotions so effortlessly
It's seamless and edgy
But, he's a nobody within
His own feelings and oneness are rotten
He doesn't even reflect the spark of reality
And that's what makes his faking seem real
he is among us only
he maybe even present in you for sometime
don't let him possess you
he's neither good nor real
Do not look at others with envy and lust.
Never desire a stranger.
You do not know how hard it got this.
It did not just fall from heaven.
So this person deserved it with sweat and blood.
Do not be pity about yourself,
how poor and miserable you are.
You're the same as everyone.
And you too can achieve this.
If you really try.
Concentrate on what you want.
And do it on your own.
No one will do it for you.
No one owes nothing to nobody.
Go and take it yourself.
You need it, not someone.
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