7-29-16
Trying to figure out what lies beneath the skin of freshly written lines of poetry,
Born into a world of honesty and dark imaginings.
Sometimes I feel bad for poetry existing as it does,
Because at least as humans we stumble upon our art by our own free will.
You tell me you expected more from me than to sit around and stargaze,
Unravel mysteries that were never meant to be mine in the first place but I tell you that's unfair-
As humans,
Our only expectation is to /exist/.
I'm not sure your words are making much sense coming from white sheets of paper or from soft spoken lips.
I can tell you it's not all clicking
But hey, that's probably my sleep deprivation buzzing through the train tracks in my head,
Giving a small amount of energy to the night I can't get out of.
I'm spending too much time caught up in worlds I'll never touch,
But that's where I belong.
Did I ever think I'd find myself in closets,
Smiling about what used to be reality,
And talking to people that an outsider can never see?
No, I'll admit that I had a very different idea in my head about where I might find myself at this point in time.
But I'm okay with this version of my life.
In fact, I like it a lot better.
Tonight will you do something for me?
At a set time, watch the sky,
Just stop,
And wait for the world to turn,
If you listen close enough,
You'll hear it.
I know we can't share the same room or the same scent or the same confinement of oxygen,
But we share the same sky.
The same earth.
My tired eyes will find you,
Somewhere within this atmosphere,
And I've got it all mapped out.
You're a mystery I can't solve,
But that's something I'm unexpectedly okay with, too.

- (m.m)

I'm discovering I have far too much to say without the knowledge of how to say it and overloading you with rant isn't what you need