i am either illiterate or read a 500 page book in 3 hours and that’s that on that
I like the intricacy of words. You can say one thing, but mean another. You can hide layers within text that will speak different volumes to different people. Perception is very intriguing. I enjoy poetry. Something may seem positive to one and negative to another. A compilation of words which may help one and hinder another. Perception creates contrast.
Below is a snippet of my brain in words. I don’t know if it’s good, I don’t know if it’s bad. I don’t care. My perception is that it’s an outlet. Good or bad becomes irrelevant. What do you think?
//I call this “The son”//
“The sun goes up
The sun goes down
On my face a smile
You don’t see the frown.
I stay afloat
But I feel I drown
I’m full of hope
But I feel a clown
I’m on a slope
Can’t get a grip
As I skip
Can’t muster a quip
A person strong, a mind that’s sick.
How do people handle it?”
Half of the weight of the soul is buried in the surface of a shallow and tortured skin, as also in it’s depths. The speech of truth is only but in a ghostly tongue, hidding in the comforts of other endless words.
So much is lost and at cost. So much is a mirror, a photograph less or no more.
I would like to grab a knife and reopen all of your hidden wounds. Watch the blood shout out of your body in different speeds, quantities, directions and places. To look at it all thoroughly, then stich them all together with the same knife and new eyes.
I would like to finally meet you.
One day I start running.
I start running and I don’t stop. I outrun the place where I was born. I outrun my friends and family.
I outrun my lifespan.
I outrun the country I grew up in. I outrun my species.
I outrun my continent. I out run my planet. I outrun my solar system and its star. I outrun my galaxy.
And one day, I run far enough that I can see the edge of the universe approaching. I don’t stop as I throw myself off, fighting its pull.
In the end, I outrun my universe as well.
I run and I run and I run until I stop. I find myself back where I started. My friends and family are there. My planet is there.
The only difference is that I wore my other favorite shirt one day.
YOU HAVE MY FAVORITE SMILE.
“Lo mas doloroso de ser amable es saber que siempre vas a estar para ellos, aunque nadie esté para ti”
when you messed up your words
and told me you loved me,
you had me fooled,
thinking maybe we could be.
and though you continued
saying you missed me,
you told me that night
that we never would be.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ — (‘LB’) myself.
Everything in my life
Has been made of
Hundreds of thousands
Of replicas right around the corner.
That’s what makes losing you so hard
I did not understand that what I had
Was the original
Made of glass;
You are violets with wind above them.
Ezra Pound, A Girl