i cannot seem to discern where sea becomes sky in a serene slippery oneness of grey and pink the black fishing boats dart across the surface like birds and i feel if i could touch it i would turn into one of them and fly away.
i want to run as far as my legs will take me away from people away from places I'll keep spinning circles into infinity i'll spread my wings and fly as i draw cloud with the wind to a world far away to a place so peaceful to a paradise so cherry that it becomes unreal
a state of mine a perfect philosophy to which i'll never arrive.
The flames come up, engulfing everything in sight. Eating, feasting even, everything now with blight. It’s hard to watch, yet too entrancing to me, I can’t put up a fight. For the fire causes many to experience true plight.
It’s interesting to watch videos or look at wildfires, but then you get to thinking... How many people have suffered from this catastrophe while I just sit here and watch from a phone? Where do these people go? Who helps them? They experience true trauma, while you are in comfort. Quite peculiar in my mind...
This is a questionable poem written because I have a whole bunch of curiosities. I was sitting in my Arizona home like I do on cold days like today when it occurred to me that people today are severely lacking in pure curiosity. I mean, sure, people are curious about some things; What will happen if I mix drugs with alcohol? What will happen if I eat this Tide Pod? I wonder if I'll die if I point this gun at my head and pull the trigger. Sure, all those things are intriguing thoughts, but, what about thoughts on pollution and world hunger? I feel like that's more important to wonder about. Or, perhaps people could be more curious about who they really are. What do they like? Do they know what they want from life? Why are they so mainstream? These days I find that so many people are in it for the aesthetic. That they're not being who they are. Every person I have met has two faces; they remind me of the infamous Greek theatre masks. I don't think anybody really know who they are, and I find that curious, in a sad, peculiar, disappointing way. It's curiously comical.
Came back from work today...I'm not allowed to fix any mistakes All I keep doing is thinking and thinking and its driving me down down down into the full yet empty darkness settling down comforting the silence and yet Ive never screamed louder crying in a distant commotion confused about my own morality tragedies happen every day and yet I'm not happy You can't expect me to be smiling Depression comes and goes like your shadow Gathering all the thoughts you have and then molding them into a weapon shoving them down your throat suffocating until you croak over over over game over . . .
then theres a light shining above you begging you to step back in the weight on your feet pulling you into a darkness without end how did this all begin when will this ever end end end end e.. n.. d.....
s o m e t i m e s o u r m i n d i s a s p a p e r t h i n a s o u r *s o u l
Sometimes I stare through my window. My reflection looks back at me. Why do I sit all by myself? No friends in such solitary. Though I don't hate being alone. I think it will drive me insane. Why can't I be good on my own? This life is like a cloudless rain. Light wipes away all of my tears. I see my shadows disappear. I guess this means I'm not alone. Good, cause that's something I do fear. I always wanted a soulmate. Sometimes I want it way too much. I can't help getting so **** green. It's when I see some couples touch. I'm still alive, a shocking thing. I never thought I'd live this long. Now my hope is the next best thing. I hope my life's not something wrong. Maybe I will see happiness. May he smile down onto me. I can't really think much further. I couldn't say what I would see. Sometimes my life is like a dream. Blowing away so silently. Not that that's bad, it isn't so. One day I will be truly free.