"inexistent" poems
I'm going to clone myself like a Jellyfish
and stray far away from this hideous place
where the grass isn't green and trees are inexistent
I used to love it here but now I can't help but hate it
so I'll go deep into the ocean and see the only beings
that make my heart flutter as if I were really living..
I'll be with the Jellyfish forever, after all nerve nets
are better than brains, they cause too much stress for me.
I'd rather be heartless, boneless, maybe transparent too
I'm already invisible and if someone were to mess with
me all I'd do is give them a sting.. no more crying, denying
my depression or worrying about people that don't worry
about me. I'd be a part of the ocean, and the ocean would
contain me. I'd basically be a type of melon with tentacles
considering they're between 95% and 98% water anyways
I could be immortal or live up to a few hours..
so let me drown already.
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 2:50 PM UTC
Dandelion kisses
Blown away by the wind.
The feathery seeds left me;
In which way have I sinned?
I don't deserve these broken shards
Embedded in my heart.
Was it truly a lie when you told me
"'Till death do us part"?
I feel most betrayed because
I'm lying to myself.
Are they just mere myths of inexistent
Romance like the Elf on the Shelf?
I write from inexperience;
I call them 'true lies'.
I've never a dandelion kiss,
Just slight contact of the eyes.
There are no cuts in my heart,
Just plain jealousy.
My pure white wedding was only
A dream replayed endlessly.
So I'll tell you this:
They say that writing is expressive;
But though my words are dishonest
I have to say, they're quite impressive.
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 2:24 AM UTC
They are both orange or gingers, as in my dreams
both crazy and funny, like you and me
and in our faces, in the morning, they won't scream.
In the apartment we'll never split rent together,
between the rooms we'll never kiss in
the kitchen we'll never cook in, not for each other.
The litter boxes we won't take turns to clean
the food bowls we won't refill, like you and I never did
wiping mirrors until they glisten and gleam
and looking back now, it's a relief indeed
The bills we won't compute, pay and solve,
the fights that we'll never have.
I find comfort in our inexistent marital issues
and the divorce that we'll never have to encounter.
Sep 23, 2023
Sep 23, 2023 at 8:02 AM UTC
You’re his
And he’s hers
You can complain in song or in verse
It doesn’t change anything
You’ll remain his
And you’ll keep hoping he’s not hers anymore
You want to know why
It’s because he didn’t ask
He didn’t even need to try
He didn’t come to you
You gave yourself
Forgetting selfish feelings
And pride for him
Now you’re repenting
Or you’re pretending to
You cannot be feeling remorse
For what your heart –
Or maybe it’s your brain –
Decides
It’s not your fault,
That’s what you keep thinking
And really you should
There is no reason for you to take the blame
For what?
Falling in infatuation? –
Love is too big a word
And you know it
And she’s still there
A big blotch of jealousy
On your idyllic picture
A stain in your happiness
You have to live with her
Even better, you have to accept
That even when – if – she gets out
Of that picture
You can’t do anything
You don’t want to be that girl, do you?
Pride is slowly creeping back up
“I’m not taking anyone’s sloppy seconds!”
“I’m better than this.”
And maybe somewhere in there
Is a little concern for others
“I can’t do that to her.”
“What will people think?”
Oh, there we have it
You don’t want to be known
As that girl
You know her,
Of course you do
You might’ve laughed at her
You might’ve pitied her
And now you want to avoid becoming her
Following like a dog an inexistent trail
But you know that trail isn’t there, right?
You’re better than that, right?
Is that what you tell yourself
Lying alone in bed at night
In the violent imprisonment
You suffer?
You’re not better that that, dear
What do you see in his looks and his smiles?
What do you hear in his words and in his laugh?
You see it, right?
That invisible thread that ties you together?
Of course you do
He’s perfect for you
you have so much in common
I’d urge you to forget him
But you feel special
You think he actually likes you
He doesn’t
He’s playing
He’s a guy, just like the others
I hear you
“No he’s sensitive”
“No he’s my friend”
Friend?
I don’t think so
You are not friends
You’re that girl he sometimes talks to
Especially when he needs something
You’re kind of weird
But always willing to help
And it’d be sad
If you were only that way with him
But it’s okay, I guess because
You’re always like that
That’s one good thing
About this destructive relationship
I’m happy you’re not changing
I’m happy you’re the same girl
The same person
But I wish you weren’t so smitten
I wish you didn’t care so much
Nov 17, 2012
Nov 17, 2012 at 4:27 PM UTC
Dear God, I’m an unbeliever,
if there was a higher power
i don’t think you’d let me leave her,
with the pain and despair I’m finding
you’d think the power you held would
allow you to come out from hiding
being the veil of what you claim to be
and the honesty extends beyond me
I’m not speaking with any selfishness
only with selflessness to guide me
away from your declarations of
mandations that mould foundations
for nations that struggle under your hand,
it’s all part of “God’s plan” only if
the blueprints call to stand and watch
everyone crumble beneath the cries
to higher powers while the darkness pours
and showers, soaking sanity and the ignorance
of humanity.
Dear God, I’m an unbeliever
I’m writing to an entity,
a supposed supreme deity
foreshadowing naive spontaneity
for those who have no one else,
I hate writing with the topic of self,
but the constant lack of health
brings not an illness
but a stillness in progress,
I’ll pick up the gun **** it,
I'll fill my body with pills
and begin to rock it,
and will there be a hand to halt?
nay, only a finger to point fault.
any god, any being wouldn’t let sadness
flow through a spineless body,
whether a monotheistic mantra
moralizes a mental mantle or
a polytheistic point towards a
pleasant prefixed phase of
past problems postpones
present’s purity,
I’m writing to a transparent
inexistent foster parent
letting me cross the road
without looking both ways,
so, dear god, if you see this
let me count my life in years, not days.
Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 8:31 AM UTC
*For so long I was blinded,
but now I see clearly.
You blamed me,
you can never be at fault.
Maybe twice you gave in
but the rest was barren.
In the beginning it was obvious,
I was struck with a new kind of substance.
but mixed in with the distance, lies and resistance.
It felt like for so long, I was inexistent.
I tried so hard,
but I was never your lifeguard.
I was just a distraction,
and I'm sure, soon enough you'll be on to the next one.*
Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 4:54 PM UTC
I'm November nights' sleepless eyes,
And Saturday's heavy rain,
I feel broken and I can't remember why.
A deep breath, it might ease my anguish.
Across that town,
(that I set on fire),
Is something stronger than melancholy.
I try to reach it but it's too distant.
I'm an illusion you can't deem real.
I'm only mist,
Your hand will never,
Close around mine.
You cry like a boy,
When you hear I've lost my breaths,
In 1678's winter snowstorm.
The autumn of 1857,
Seems like cracking branches,
And you and me inexistent,
Trapped in something,
We can't seem to remember.
It has no name, that phobia.
I can't breathe, I can't remember,
Where I've left my lungs.
I can't feel, I don't know,
Where I've dropped my heart.
My eyes can't trace,
The shape of your face.
You're a blurred image,
I've crafted with my own hands.
Nothing makes sense.
Maybe I'm insane.
Desperate, so desperate,
To feel, to touch an entity,
That could be bigger than life.
But I'm a breathing vacuum.
The sensation in my fingers,
Is singeing me with so much life,
It's almost unbearable.
I'm running, bolting, wavering,
Stumbling, swaying, trembling.
I'm dying, dreaming, wondering,
I'm falling in love.
I'm falling over and over and over.
But I'm only falling.
I've never known what's it like,
To get up.
I'm falling into a rift valley,
With sleepy eyes.
I'm falling again.
But this time I'm falling asleep.
I might wake up.
Someday I might.
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 6:47 PM UTC
In darkness the absence of light sparkles
Man’s reflection on notions of nothingness.
Empty space ultimately devoided of purpose
As space unhosting objects loses function.
Empty minds deprived of thoughts and imagination,
Unable of creation. Empty bodies ceasing to pump
Blood where it belongs, for hearts to beat, life to be.
Psychopomps allegedly escorting vestiges beyond.
Yet in nothing eyes can witness is there Nothing,
Always Something invading sight with blinding colours.
Beyond sight, perceptions of power, particles in motion,
Detecting forces playing games to challenge the reflection.
In space, in mind, in body, emptiness does not exist.
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 5:22 AM UTC
Though some believed that just as beauty
Space was in the eye of the beholder,
An abstract justification for human experience
Of matter and its motion,
An ancient thinker, by history called the Great,
Asserted with conviction, it simply did not exist.
Nothing was not a concept of nature
Abhorring vacuum, and all agreed.
As nothing came from nothing,
Nothing couldn’t be. Empty space
Out of consciousness’ reach.
Deprived of objects it had no purpose,
For what would its purpose be
If not that of being a place
To contain all that exists?
The mind puzzling game concocted
If space could exist independently of matter
Matter could not exist independently of space,
For where would it be?
So came another thinker questioning
‘Is space something rather than nothing?’
As indeed deprived of the object, undeniably
The place de facto would still exist.
Time passing by replaced thinkers with scientists,
Defining its nature for it to be infinite and absolute,
Existing independently of objects and the mind of the observer,
Observing its balancing force, counteracting that of gravity,
To keep things apart. Dark energy, Energy of space.
Now searching for particles to fill in the voids
To justify the dynamic and expanding quality
Of a Universe which might as well
Be a plenum.
Retracing back the steps to initial perceptions
Of inexistent space for a Cosmos filled
With fundamental particles elegantly orchestrating
The motion of all that ever was, is and will be.
All that exists, a plenum of energy.
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 4:14 AM UTC
I'm wrapped in this eternity,
its suffocating grip
break my breaths
into splinters I can't fix.
I'm worn out
and my unbound edges
are starting to dissolve in this chasm.
One day, it'll become me
and I'll become it.
Then they'll know
that my depth
was never fathomable.
This unknown ocean is my home.
If they asked,
I'll tell them that 1997's
summer seemed like
streetlights casting
orange glow over deserted roads.
I'm an infinite distance
drenched between
my broken dream
and a reality so real,
it shook my being.
I'm this flash of light,
almost resonant,
almost imperishable.
Almost.
My unbound edges
have dissolved into this chasm.
If I could reach out now,
I could touch
that little diminished glow
my dream used to be.
I've fallen out of faith,
fallen out of fear,
fallen out of dread.
I'm this numb throbbing
left behind by the bitter tint
of their crude remarks
That I haven't learned to forget.
I'm a being of ashes piled high,
desperate to touch the sun
though it burned me so much,
That I've become nothing
but a screaming grey,
That they call thunderstorm.
I'm like water splashing,
through broken water pipes
with rusty veins
and faded sunsets
and dark dawns,
fissured with almost inexistent clouds.
They know now though,
I'm faded.
They still don't know,
I'm a bottomless void.
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 9:14 AM UTC
Too long,
Too long I point my vision
In awe towards the inexistent flaw
Embedded within the lustrous cracks of your smile
Splitting through the melancholy-infused,
My timeless sunless sky
I tremble,
More than just a sugar rush,
A heaven-sent electric current;
Starts the heart-shaped engine,
Rips through its tendons,
Accelerates, opposing the infirm currents ,
Of the impaired circuit,
Sensitizes it to a form of "life".
The thunder then pounds within the hollow,
Slowly devastates the shallow.
Bruises branch down my neck,
The bolts sink down to my deck,
Engraving everlasting fractal marks ,
Of fractions of whiles,
When I was stone-blind ,
Consumed by the euphoric rush,
Of your broken white lights,
Shocked into submission,
Getting used,
Falling for abuse.
Lightning was your name,
The thunder was your doomed game.
Maybe one end only surges in mortal power,
But the other has fallen, devoured.
Blind, but now I see coherently,
Rewired differently.
My fingertips still trace down the marks,
Till they have memorized their very whereabouts,
But now I embark,
On the journey of focus on my ever-present,
And your ever-absence.
Tainted with specks of your broken light,
My sky then gives birth to ravishing stars,
That decorate the gloomiest of inky skies.
Sometimes the stars fall,
To witness me wishing him away,
Closely hear me say,
The last of my goodbyes;
So long for now,
So long for then.
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 3:45 PM UTC
darling, we will
never know
when the
oceans are
gone or when
the stars
are eaten by
the sky
we might
live to see
another day
or we
might not,
and that is
that
the path
ahead is
dark and
unknown
but how
will we
ever know
what this
trail holds
if we never
take our step?
my dear,
live your today
like your
tomorrow is
inexistent
do not live
for your
mother's eyes
or by your
father's words
live the way
you dream of
live as if
you are
an explorer
in a new world
take risks
like the sun
will never rise
but hope
as if you
live forever
and have
unmeasurable
chances
this path
is dark
but never
narrow
dream,
live,
breathe freely
my love
never be
burdened by
tomorrow
never be
blinded
by now
the world
the heaven
the seas
are yours
you are free
make your
days priceless
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 9:08 PM UTC
My heart's a paper written with ****
Crumpled, crunched and dumped.
I've always wanted her to feel it.
I've always wanted her to see it.
But her sight's blocked by desires of her own
She'll never see what she doesn't want to see
What I want is an abhorrence to her
A horrid scene that's imminently inexistent.
Never imagined I could hurt this bad
Never thought I'd be wounded this deep
I once thought in metal armor I am clad
But there's one thing she did, and my carcass exploded all over the place.
Wish I could slap it on her face how it hurts
Wish I could feel her caress and apology
But all I have left is me
All that's left for comfort is me
Cannot nail how this makes a square be four sided
Love won't, doesn't work one-sided
This double-sided life I'm living,
Will leave me in the end of the story grieving.
She never feels pain
She never gives up everything
She never let her walls come down
She's a one tough kid.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 3:51 AM UTC
I’ve been left alone in my class as I always am.
I observe how beige encrustings work on the ceiling humming electronically in this feeble light we have with our current weather like mistied silver with choked charcoal out of someone’s throat stoic with inexistent illness.
It seems to me I’m pressed with time to go out as I usually am
by some codexes
but I just can’t help being glued standing to my chair and watching with an unspecified wistfulness and melancholy as students’ bike
/
come and go here from above
/
and no one knows how many afternoons of watching or window sill standing I’ve spent like that,
where the window the teacher has every time overlooks one
of these trees only I keep in my mind’s eye
and all that with me included stays
abandoned (but not exactly morosely) to play the part of watch keepers lasting still
like pillars no one will account for.
And l felt how my shift there and the thing I and this room made chose you to be answered there.
And as I couldn’t help but keep carrying the conscience luggage with you within it so carefully whilst I was blending my abandoned singing there with how you might be transfixing yourself in perplexities of uncertainty.
And I’m telling you I read your text place just when it came, have been carrying you as my desired task to, as an injured animal yet with no degradation this state. I kept making a letter I would give inside my eyes and small fidgets of hands.
I wonder at how it is I who writes
and how it is You who writes.
One another.
Nov 9, 2020
Nov 9, 2020 at 9:46 AM UTC
He once said that he did not feel anything until it had a name.
It was invalid, inexistent. I decided that the worst thing about me is not
that I want to **** myself but that I cannot ****
everyone who has ever ruined a piece of me. Their numbers
are still in my phone in case I need to call and apologize for nothing,
in case they still want me and I can cry when I turn them down.
I let people hate me more than I let people love me,
I need men more than I want them. My sexuality is fictional, he’d say
because there is not a name for what I do to everyone I touch.
There are only their names polluting my heart.
I let people hate me, I let them keep me dying more than living.
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 4:55 PM UTC
There do exist,
Such people on earth,
Who have not seen happiness;
Who are untouched by success;
Who are longing for kindness.
Who have been poor for so long,
That they crave for death.
Hoping the other side would be better;
At least, they will not be aware of others,
Comparison would thus be inexistent;
And the lives happier,
If any should prevail.
Maybe death is peaceful.
Maybe it soothes us.
Perhaps obliviates the bad memories.
In every case,
It surely is an escape
From this monotonous life.
Can be considered an experiment,
An experiment of fate;
A trial for kins.
These people are untouched
By all the good in the world,
The springs don't exist in their lives,
Joy seen nowhere,
But death:
Death never discriminates.
It comes to us all.
It waits,
Only for the correct night to fall.
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 3:55 AM UTC
Wilted jasmines look like popcorns
… that wasn’t very poetic, right?
I was just watching the bushes sway outside my window.
There is no wind today
Just the hot air breathing
I have turned on the A.C. and the fan grumbles quietly
I feel as if my heart is in my stomach
Huh.
**** it,
I really am forcing it out today..
Whatever
I rested my palm on my stomach
As Faizan’s strange playlist chattered nonsense
Outside the blanket shroud I had built
Around myself
And I could feel the beat
The rhythm
Like a drum or a gong
I don’t know why it matters to me
Maybe because I feet as if nothing else does
Right now
I know that sounds exactly like something
A sentimental teenager would say
I don’t know
I want to talk to myself
A heart-to-heart
I want to ask that *****
What is going on
What is wrong
What the **** is wrong, girly!?
I want to hear her ramble on about stuff
Be bored of her talk, but feel kind of happy
That I’m the one she’s confiding in
I wanna give her a hug
To show I don’t have words good enough for comfort
Which I probably do
But am too lazy to fish them out my gooey head
(Besides
I think the poor **** needs a hug)
I wanna zone out and nod along to her words
Just so she can let it out for once
But that bitch’s a *****
She acts tough and all smart
But she’s a sappy preteen girl inside
I say,
“Yo, Ayesha, you can cry, you know—”
And she goes,
“Yeah, I know.”
A flip of that inexistent hair
That she long ago butchered
And, bam, she gone.
She tells me
"Yo, Ayesha, you can cry too, you know?"
"I know" I tell her.
I don’t know what to do
So I lie around
Feeling this stupid ***** dance in my stomach
In my wrists
In my temples
I run my fingers down my neck,
Feeling for the echoes of the gong
That keeps talking, talking, talking
Untiring
As if calling me to my people
gathering us together for a battle
that is yet to be fought
yet to be fought—
yet to be ******* fought
And, hey, my
Money plant doesn’t even look rich
That *****
(Hey, I got a rhyme!)
May 27, 2021
May 27, 2021 at 10:14 AM UTC
There is a place in my body where you lie,
A place where fold of muscles and skin,
pillars and bridges and jails of
bones are intact. . .
Where you swim in blood,
dancing in an endless rhythm of beats.
There is a place in me that can be measured,
but whats inside is immeasurable. . .
There is an Idea of you in me.
May 26, 2010
May 26, 2010 at 12:20 AM UTC
Once upon a time
I was your little girl
I didn't know of heaven or cared about hell as I slept in your arms
The resonance of your voice was sweeter than any lullaby as I slept in your arms...
Once upon a time
I used to look up to a giant,
my doubts, my fears: inexistent
Once upon a time
turbulence did not dared to touch me
as you held me tight to your warm
What happened to my fairy tale land?
I climbed a beanstalk to never return to you,
I grew as you became little,
Disappointment never failed to show,
as I lost faith in you
And you...you lost me
...I was your little girl once, everything was okay as long as you held my hands
But, it was you who forgot
the excitment of having a little girl,
the joy of seeing me grow
it was you, who missed...
What do you hold dear now days?
I honestly do not wish to know
You took a magic eraser and erased your little girl,
I still haven't found the magic that would make me return...
Or the spell to bring back the man I barely knew...
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 1:06 AM UTC
The beginning:
He needlessly noticed my hidden words.
...He noticed.
Nothing... Wonderfully.
Still alive, deprived of senses,
Fallen in stares... I felt so.
A smile, reversed clock, Number 43, black jumper, her fingers...
Short bordeaux nails, nasty mouse face, enormous glasses, a smile.
Was I feeling through what?
What was I feeling?
High five.
Disappear and appear again, up behind me and at my left...
Our stares, weird clockworks;
I knew there was happening something senseless.
...Behind again. But that's the last time,
that's seventeen-nine. I read it.
I couldn't think I'm thinking about pain,
Although something leaded me astray.
Blinding darkness... Weak, far light...
Far smile.
So I couldn't think consciously
about everything died before its wrong birth.
Moments of pure madness. Insane; escape;
no way.
The last time repeated again, for the last time.
An inexistent history.
Pleasant history pleasantly little.
Nevermore.
Again,
and again nevermore.
Forever.
Disappear.
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 5:01 PM UTC
Fertile precincts of toxic air, colourless
And unstable create, inexistent boundaries
Of oxygen ***** by electrical discharges
Ultraviolet caress. An atom more turns
The unscented scent into a pungent odour,
Pale blue molecules high temperatures detonate
While low ones, solidify in violet black coagula,
Generous enough to retain, for humanity
And wildlife and all beneath, a gaseous form
Up high to shield, the delicate planet hosting
Sparkles of consciousness from its star’s deadly
Compromising radiations, absorbing them to grant
A frail, balance through its presence in stratosphere
We know, as our fragile sheltering ozone layer,
Descending just a little lower to become once more,
Breathable life bearing oxygen penetrating
Our lungs inundating a system, flowing through
Veins where the pale blue molecules spring only,
Every now and then in white blood cells, fighting
Illful intruders ensuring, survival of amazing wonders.
Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 1:59 AM UTC
The lies
Untold but not inexistent
Always there
Hiding
Watching
Judging
Poor thing
She had no clue
What you were doing to her
What you had already done
Tucked away so far
So deep
So hidden
But eventually
For they don't give up
Those secrets you tried to hide in the dark
They crawl
And they scratch
Until they finally break the surface
They'll find the light
And then she'll know
Poor thing
She never had a chance
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 8:05 AM UTC
My heart's a paper written with ****
Crumpled, crunched and dumped.
I've always wanted her to feel it.
I've always wanted her to see it.
But her sight's blocked by desires of her own
She'll never see what she doesn't want to see
What I want is an abhorrence to her
A horrid scene that's imminently inexistent.
Never imagined I could hurt this bad
Never thought I'd be wounded this deep
I once thought in metal armor I am clad
But there's one thing she did, and my carcass exploded all over the place.
Wish I could slap it on her face how it hurts
Wish I could feel her caress and apology
But all I have left is me
All that's left for comfort is me
Cannot nail how this makes a square be four sided
Love won't, doesn't work one-sided
This double-sided life I'm living,
Will leave me in the end of the story grieving.
She never feels pain
She never gives up everything
She never let her walls come down
She's a one tough kid.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 3:57 AM UTC