It is not in idleness
That I justify my reproachfulness
That is where it is judged
Still elating in my sorrowful bath
Condensation lining the walls of my fragile heart
It feels like cold glass
Throbbing inside a marble cage
In every way
Close to shattering it's tiny pieces upon the cold linoleum
That provides the floor
To my aching gut
It's in idleness
That I may remain...
I watch the trees
Cackle in a polyphony of sound
The leaves even fall dead
Where is my ticket?
For this show
The velvet drapes of Carnegie Hall have never seen such beauty in all their days
And I wonder
Why do people chase
Chase away the days and lives with 9 to 5 jobs
Just to buy a ticket to watch some sort of unforeseen beauty
Working just to work more
And living to work
And who ever had the silent idea
To sit idly and watch the trees
Dance and sway
And cackle at my *******
While I drift away
Into the depths of the show
The show that never ends.
Watching the blades of grass
How I wish I could mow lawns
My life is much harder
I have to be a writer
Or at least
I don’t know what I am
The effects of sleep deprivation on the mind
Inability to focus
Yet the mind rests exactly where it needs to be
I wonder if it is better to remain sane and neutral
Or insane, suffering the ups and downs of emotional detriment?
I’m not normally one for romantic poetry,
I’m not normally one for love,
I’m not normally once to crave another,
I’m not normally one to let someone else in
Why is it you my dear,
That I am so drawn to?
Does the answer lie in your scarlet hair?
Or your faint grin?
Does the answer lie in your bottomless eyes?
Perhaps the answer lies in your heart?
I prefer not to know
I prefer the keep the mystery veiled in secret
I prefer to let our love dance in those foggy New Orleans streets
Floating over the puddles and making love to the romance that hangs in the air
Perhaps I’ll find it around the next corner,
Setting with the sun,
Or falling like the rain.
Swooning over the moon,
Like lonely clouds
That’s where I prefer to believe,
Our love lies
Where did we split off?
Was it the train?
Was I running after your solemn face staring at me through a windowpane?
Did we part ways in an enchanted forest?
Or perhaps it was in the depths of my cold room
Nestling under the covers
Begging warmth from each other?
I’m not sure, but in these moments of longing, I always remember you.
You’re still with me.
Sometimes I try to trace where my personality split,
Where these cold shards of broken glass have left me feeling empty and alone,
Sometimes I try to fill it,
Sometimes even with beauty,
But the euphoria of you never fades away,
And I know I need to find myself
But I am lost, swimming
In your Ocean
— The End —