the caves that obscure the perception of reality became
home to me when I could no longer suture
the ruptured arteries of my muse,
the bellowing echoes of silence becomes forlorn
until it's nothing but a musical footnote
in your dream catcher -
but, I must ask, is this worth it?
I, I, I wish I could answer that truthfully
with the type of brutal honesty that
leaves you sore for days, wondering if
the surprisingly calming beauty of being
that vulnerable will last, or fade into
that keep you bound to the edge of your bed,
praying you vomit
but instead you keep gagging,
trying to hurl something other than
i am instead here hurling words onto this page
without a second thought,
with very little inhibition
(i will never admit this word-vomit is for you)
i will never admit it, because I was naked before you,
vulnerable, to the point where the silence was sharp
enough to slit my wrists open and let every thought,
idea, memory bleed, but it wasn't the silence that
no, it was the subtle connotations tucked away in your voice
the inflection, the phrasing of the words that had me
jump into the perfidious waters of self-doubt
disregarding the fact that I cannot swim,
so I tried my best to tread the water,
I must've swallowed gallons of water
until i was exhausted from thrashing
(it's funny, early 'man used to chase their
prey until they were exhausted, even if their
prey was miles faster)
i never thought for a second that you'd be the apex predator,
well no, I'm likening you to it, you are at best,
a hurricane of emotions,
ravaging everything you touch
I really wish I could've acclimated myself to the frigidness of regret -
i'm tired of talking about how this is onyx
and that is asphalt-grey
and how purple is always morose.
those are always the colors on my palette
whenever i wish to try to paint something with words,
it must be the familiarity that draws me to it,
the brush-stroke mechanics come naturally to me:
i inferred that the small infinity of YOUR cosmos
meant that we were a binary star-system,
with me siphoning off every metaphor,
simile, every essence of
until it becomes too great of a responsibility
and release the inevitable supernovae that resides,
or maybe, it's the opposite,
or maybe, you're the star and
i'm just a cloud of star-dust...
there's something to be said about these superfluous words,
the verbosity bedaubs the reality that exists behind this poem,
tucked away between the nooks and crannies of your palms...
of your palms,
the amalgamation of union and intersections of lines,
that I traced over and over again with my fingers,
exploring, back-tracking dead ends until
they got caught between the gaps of your bony fingers
and stayed there,
to-night, mon cherie,
we sip from the night sky
(the ashen clouds that we weaved
until there's no more.
no it's not gluttony,
just a well-needed
if loving you was warmth,
why then, I am the parched soils of the Sahara!
if loving you meant clemency,
then I am in the company of Yeshua ben yosef.
if loving you,
if loving you,
if loving you
if loving you
the shame of being absolutely vulnerable
is overwhelming, I wish I could just fini...
This poem made me breathless! So much honesty and with lovely use of words. You had me from start to finish. I'm adding this one to my favorites! This was a really great piece. Congrats on your win too.
I may have missed the point with this one, I awarded 7 points rather than 10 for the lower case 'I' here and there. It is also a bit of a ramble.
But to be honest it is a fantastic ramble. Maybe Senyru just wanted this all off his chest and wrote it in one sitting bad punctuation and all.
I like that it is emotionally charged and loud.
(It reads loud in my head)
Repetition that makes me stammer is a nice touch.
Repetition that hammers home the point, is also a great touch.
A bit long like all good rambles should be, I enjoyed this. 7 points