How do I interpret
this joy
how do I analyse
this sudden urge to decline melancholy
how do I skin
myself alive
How do I
tear past this identity
how do I
cease to relate
how do I
tune in to fantasy
how do I skin
myself alive
You become a little jelly fish
they don’t have hearts
they don’t have brains either
you become a little jelly fish
and I did.
I swam for years in waters too cold
at one time they did turn warm
but that was when I got old
I had nerves
and only that
there was a little bundle of them
at my center
I swam for years with that knotted bundle
at one time they did un-knot themselves
but that was when they’d fondle
I had them
and only them
I swam for years with them
a little jelly fish
with no heart
and no brain
with a bundle and
them
How do I stop
this unilateral living
how do I become
more
how do I get over
this existential crisis
how do I skin
myself alive
You become a being
they have a life
they live it
And I did.
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It’s a full circle
one with a prescribed radius
and no boundary
it’s a full circle
we’re all desperate and wild
isolated
engulfed by the abstract
finding our salvation in art
the virtual world is a testimony
to this madness
this absolute need to love and unlove
this rush to accept a million broken things
to find beauty in chaos
it’s a full circle
we’re all little pixels of light
burst out from the same source
trying to unite and repel the force
the force we call romance
the force we read about in fiction
the force that is both soothing and coarse
science is an alibi to this poetry
to this resurrection
this destruction
of emotional bondage
to this erection
of palpitating loneliness
it’s a full circle
even the hymn of death
it’s a full circle
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
There is you and there is him
there is a need and there is real
there is you and there is me
oh what a dichotomy
oh what a tragedy
where do we draw the line, I weep
where your lust begins to fade
you say
where your insides don’t burn of dopamine
where your chest doesn’t hurt of regret
where you and I can sit and sip coffee
and not move a finger over each
you say
there is platonic and there is polyamory
there is drama and there is real
there is you and there is me
oh what a bravery
oh what a tragedy
when do we preach to each our love, I sigh
when you and I can see past your thighs
when you and I can exist sans attachment
when you and I can go beyond a few written words on a parchment
you say
when you don’t run away
you say
but I did.
And you cried, like a little boy on steroids. You cried.
You spent nights by the street they say
you got inked over my name they say
you got fascinated by my groans they say
and you groaned the same
they say
oh what a blasphemy
oh what a tragedy
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Contemporarycrap 