Every body is always trying to understand
Even to force All of these binary oppositions On everything and everyone But here I am An odd one out I am everything and nothing I am a saint And I am a sinner I am happy And I am sad I am male And I am female I am a child And I am an adult I am dead And I am alive I am everything And I am nothing.
How would you react if I said I missed you?
Would you miss me too? It's highly unlikely because you seem to be okay, But I still wonder what it would be like if you were to stay. I don't want to, but I think of you every day, I'm really sorry to brings this up this way. I can just never seem to say anything right, It's so hard for me to think about the light. I'm ranting on and on about how I feel, This is the only place where I can keep it real. I cannot imagine myself without this site, I for sure know the future wouldn't be bright. Well this was a poem about nothing, But it happened to lead to something.
Nothing to prove..
to people who are counting on me.. to f A l p l a a R T •rb
It was an unexpected travesty
While I sipped on my Paris tea Black and swirling in the creamy cup The melancholy inside wasn’t made up The touches shared never to be replayed A pen left wordless on the splotched page The story of us dwindled and ended I’ll yearn the soul I lost and befriended It stains the wanderings in my heart Restless longing never to depart Will she look at you the way I did too Or with her smile is your gaze anew Amongst any spoken tendril I have to say You’ll ignore it regardless, keep it at bay No matter wherever I beg and try Forever I’ll be pinned as the bad guy Your friends affirm it without any doubt The words you spill attract gallons of clout And even with a vine of knowledge to prove They’d pry and spy ‘til nothing’s left to prune
Whilst drinking my daily cup of Harney and Sons Paris tea I imagined this scenario. The heartbreak of being replaced is shattering indeed.
Sometimes it is good
To sit around, do nothing Clear your busy mind
"I feel nothing"
she said as she lied down on the cold empty road not knowing which direction to go "what's it like" I asked her over the phone while stuck in traffic just trying to get to work
Shh, listen, do you hear the silence?
The haunted streets full of ghosts? The screeching fall of the world of finance? We are but billions of clueless hosts
Written at the beggining of a pandemic after the first lockdown in my country
nothing came to mind
so nothing got writ for nothing was in the nothing kit nothing nothing nothing at all being scribed on the poetry site's wall
Nothing doesn't mean anything.
Or, I suppose, nothing means the lack of something. Nothing is nothing. It doesn't exist. So tell me why this nothing is hurting me.