the months passed
without a flowery word from my pen
it's all poppycock
it's all that shit for people with feelings
i don't own those anymore
my mind became a product of structure
clicking and beeping
the gears turning and switching
a well-oiled machine
i didn't need anyone
i knew they didn't need me
i was trapped but free
it was so strangely simple.
and then they came like a disease
popping up and pricking, poking, piercing
well how could i ever forget?
i don't want to forget what happened today
but i want to forget what happened today
your enveloping arms don't exist
and yet oh, they do so vividly
i was content with my shield
i was content without the field
i was content with the filter in my mind
you're learning and teaching
you're more stable than i'll ever wish to be
but you found my heel
and shot it with the only arrow you had
did you know?
I don't love you
and to say so
would be a bitter falsity.
it's more of a forced happiness
I'm standing under the fiery sun
and straining to push it up over the ragged horizon
for a moment the world is illuminated
for a moment the world is
and all those other bright epiphany words
- and then my arms buckle under all the weight
and the sun tumbles, tumbles, tumbles
hits the moon and crumbles
and all that's left is a sky full of lonely stars.
I love this write. It's a new favorite. It flowed so nicely and spun on itself making some lines only something you could understand and hold dear. I don;t even think theres more I could say on the matter. Amazing write, keep 'em coming.
"I don't love you
and to say so
would be a bitter falsity." Such strong words. I enjoy it.
"I was content..." was my favorite line. Never have I heard someone so blatantly admit to not wanting to be trapped in love. It could do
with punctuation and capital letters, but even with those distractions this poem is quite refreshing from the usual fluffy, dishonest, flowery bullshixt about love in here.
Saol fada chugat,