A desired, undesired end
I have a rope tied around my throat.
My eyes burn and turn crystalline.
My veins, red, green, blue,
are about to dance.
I think of all artists who speak of their work of art,
and the brushes behind it.
But I’ll never get to show my work of art.
I’ll simply give my last breath to regret,
regret for the person I was.
Each time I sink into melancholic thoughts,
each time the thread of fate pulls me into the abyss,
into the deep sea,
with tides crashing against me as I drown,
my hand silently reaches out…
but I only sink.
And I will drown,
drown without ever being a valued, loved, important, or useful person. I say goodbye to the only ones who ever welcomed me with warmth, even though I don’t deserve it.
God, just take me.
The wounds on my body and under my nails burn.
Please let everything heal from me.
And may tears of fury have served some purpose.
Now, yes, this note is a great work of art,
But one with a bitter, sorrowful ending.
Goodbye.
As I touch the bottom of the sea.
Self-portrait poem from my bitter heart
Like an unopened chest,
I stayed with the deep intrigue of what else is inside of my deep eyes.
Like calm tides,
I transform into a great wave, full of all my regrets.
Like the meow of a baby cat,
I shelter for the protection of my parents while naked from the world I am.
Look at the free and rebellious wind
What I want to be, while I witness the world counting all the stars.
The trunk in the middle of my heart
Prevents water from passing through me.
While I wait for the distant dawn,
I become a sea of tears with my deep darkness.
My inner demon is anger
the anger that only calms the salt.
I am a rainbow of emotions,
and a roller coaster.
I am a survivor of the world,
and a raised soldier.
And with my wounded hands,
I open the doors of my future and the doors of my heart.
Where my feet and head really are
They say I don’t know
where my feet and head are, that I’m always daydreaming.
But if only they knew
that my dream is the real world.
The sky is always bright,
Filled with clear, open clouds.
Flowers have no color,
only an origin
that makes them slightly different. The rain is sweet.
In reality,
The dark sea doesn’t exist.
Only calm tides.
In reality,
we are all heroes from past lives. All of you
Wear a smile without a cape.
At night,
the moon watches over us.
In the day,
the sun protects us.
And we are aliens.
But in the end,
the sane one in society of madmen is the madman.
And that smell disgusts me.
The smell is green, dark.
The fog in our eyes disgusts me too.
Open your eyes
and stop daydreaming,
so that we may see
our beginning.